


H.A.G.S.

by Sapphire_sky



Series: The Lives of These Dorks [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: ALL OF IT, Alternate Universe, Confusion, F/F, Humanstuck, M/M, Sorry 'bout the death, Strifing, all of the confusion, bros, maybe death, not really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-02-04 20:37:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 27,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1792432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sapphire_sky/pseuds/Sapphire_sky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Have a great summer. Maybe you could visit me up here in Washington sometime :B"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome to Washington

**Author's Note:**

> In honor of the beginning of summer, I present to you a Davekat fic.

Your text conversation went something like this...

"Have a great summer, Dave. Maybe you could come visit Washington sometime over summer break. I know the flights are expensive and shit, just tell me if you can, okay? In case this isn't going through your thick skull, I'M INVITING YOU TO SEATTLE :B"

John was such a douchebag when he wanted to be. That nerd. Well, you might as well ask Bro. Not that he'll care, but ya know, might as well ask. You ask, and he says why the hell not, so you two are apparently going to Seattle for a month. Better tell John then. You type his number into your phone, and it is picked up pretty fast, for him. "Hey bro," smooth, you think, now continue. "What is it, Dave? I have things to do, you know." You try not to laugh, "even you know you don't. So I just wanted to tell you that me and Bro are comin' to Seattle for a month, so make some room in that living space of yours, because it'll be occupied by some serious Strider." There is a pause from John's side of the line, "That's great, Dave! I'll tell Dad, so when're you planning on coming over?" You pause, you have no idea on that detail. "One, sec. BRO! WHEN'RE WE LEAVING?" "RIGHT NOW, LIL BRO, RIGHT NOW," he yells back.

Shit, you need to pack. "Bro says now, John. Get your shit together and we'll be there in about four hours." You hang up the phone and start shoving stuff into your suitcase that you may need. Computer, broken record and gear shirts, and a few more stuffs. You decide to leave the swords here, in case the airport security doesn't like that kind of stuff. You dress and put on your shades. Bro knocks on your door a few minutes later, and you pull your suitcase out and shove it into the back of Bro's car.

You reach the airport, go through security, and get to your gate right as the plane was about to leave. You board the plane and sit down in your shitty seats. You get the window seat, because Bro wanted the aisle seat. The plane takes off, and you watch some terrible, yet ironic, movies off your phone. You are landing in Seattle before you know it.

You pick up your bags, people giving you and Bro's shades strange looks, which is to be expected. You hop in a taxi and speed to John's house.

* * *

Bro rings the doorbell, and after a few seconds it is answered my none other than John himself. "Wow, you guys came fast, goddamnit. I have my science research partner, Karkat, over. And the teacher picked the pairings, so no he's not my 'friend.' I was going to tell you, but you hung up the phone. School ends in a few more weeks. Come on in." You and Bro enter the Egbert residence, and John shows you to the guest bedrooms. He has such a huge house, it's not even funny.

The room you're staying in is nice, so you "neatly" put your clothes in drawers. You then exit the room, closing the door behind you. John is arguing with a short little redheaded kid with freckles all over his face. Said short little redheaded kid looks up at you from across the room and scowls at you. John stands up. "Dave, this is Karkat. Karkat, this is Dave." Karkat keeps scowling as you walk over and examine what the hell they're doing. It looks like some sort of model. A cell, maybe? A planet?

John sighs. "It's  **supposed** to be a model of a plant cell, but it looks more like a brick spilling its guts everywhere, thanks to Mr. Vantas over here." Said Mr. Karkat Vantas' scowl deepens. You take a few moments to examine the pathetic excuse of a cell, and find the problem. "Which stage of mitosis?" you ask. "Anaphase, I think. Right, Karkat?" Karkat gives a brisk nod. "Well, to start, the cell is dividing, not shitting on the table, so you should move this-" you reach over and move a pew cell parts so the model sort of remotely resembles a cell. "Well, that's a bit better, right Karkat?"

Karkat mumbles a "fuck you" and folds his arms over his black sweater with a cancer zodiac symbol on it. What the fuck, it's like a million fucking degrees outside. "I assume that's a yes, Karkles, and this time I work for free." Karkat gives you a death glare, and Bro comes in, talking with Dad Egbert. Dad Egbert is carrying little blond-haired-blue-eyed Casey Egbert, who is chewing a piece of blue bubble gum.

You don't think you've ever seen her without a piece of blue gum in her mouth, actually. She turns her head toward you. "Dave!" she scrambles out of her father's arms and gives you a hug. Or at least as good of a hug as a five year old can give. You hug her back, anyways, and pick her up, with her still clinging to your neck. "Hey, Casey." You turn back to face John and Karkat. John gives his goofy grin and fixes his huge square glasses.

John and Karkat continue to work on their project, while you walk around with Casey wrapping her little arms around your neck. By now, you're sure she's asleep. You've been to the Egbert's house a few times before, so you know where her room is. You carefully place Casey in her little twin sized bed, and, sure enough, she's sound asleep. You tuck her in with her yellow covers. She may just be a bit obsessed with the color. She was wearing a yellow short-sleeved shirt and blue jeans, and she no doubt had much more yellow clothes in her closet. You lean over and give her her favorite stuffed animal, a yellow stuffed salamander named Viceroy Bubbles von Salamander, and slowly left the room, slowly shutting the door behind you.

* * *

You wake up the next morning to Bro knocking rather rudely on your door. You quickly put on a red broken record shirt, jeans, and your shades, and open the door. He is smirking and holding two katanas, one out to you. You take it, and decide not to ask how the hell it got past security, Bro has his ways. He leads you to the house's roof to strife. The roof isn't exactly optimal for strifing, but hey, it's practice.

Bro swings at you, and you parry it quickly, stepping aside. You and Bro are pretty much even, strife wise, with him beating you on terrains like this, and you mostly winning on flatter roofs. He disarmed you a few times, and you had disarmed him once so far. You swing quite powerfully at his sword, sending it flying off the roof and into the front yard. "Well shit, dude. You're fifteen, you need to fix your form quite a bit. I know this is a shitty roof and all, but still." You look down to the yard to see John staring at you and Bro like you guys are insane, which you very well may be.

Bro leaped off the roof, and landed on his feet in the grass. You have no idea how, the roof is at least fifty feet off the ground, but he sticks his landing every single time. Might as well give it a try. You leap off the roof and, surprisingly enough, stick your landing as well, all while your shades stayed on your face. Bro gives you a nod of what you think is approval, and you nod back. 

"Whatever, freaks," but you can tell John's smiling, "I just gotta get to school, so I'm outta here." A bus pulled up to the curb and John runs to catch it. Someone waved to you from the bus window.  Holy shit it was Rose. Rose as in your fucking cousin Rose. You resist the urge to wave back, but just nod instead.

As you and Bro walk inside, you stop. "I had no idea that Rose lived here. No fucking idea." Bro smirks and ruffles your hair, which he very well knows pisses you off. "Of course I knew, lil bro. How the hell did you not know? She and Roxy have been your cousins for as long as you've been alive, minus a few days. It is your responsibility to know where they live." You roll your eyes behind your shades and pour yourself and Bro a glass of water, which are both gone within the minute.

You, Bro, Dadbert, and Casey go to various grocery stores before John gets home from school.

* * *

Right as you reach up and put the huge box of potato chips on top of the cabinet, John and Karkat walk in. Karkles is surprisingly less scowly than usual, at least from what you've seen. "Karkles seems happy, doesn't he, John?" Karkat throws something at you, and by reflex, you catch it. You look at the pebble and toss it onto the floor. "tssk tssk, rude," you smirk, "John, can I play your Wii? It's lonely. It wants to be played. When was the last ti-" John frowns at you and waves you off, which you assume means "go the hell ahead." You walk into the basement where John keeps all his movie and video games.

You, surprisingly enough, are soon joined by a certain little redhead, who promptly interrupts your perfectly good Mario Kart game. You were in first until you looked over to see who the hell it was. You won't admit it was kinda worth it, getting second place. Karkat  **is** kinda cute.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some more strifing, some Casey adorableness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you've been waiting all of a few days for this, so here ya go.

You and Karkat play practically every Mario Kart track that was ever created, and you come in first every single time. You're sure Karkat thinks you're cheating. Everyone thinks you cheat when you crush them so bad. You are in the middle of a race when Casey walks in and plants her five-year-old torso directly onto your lap. She is wearing her adorable little wizard costume, with a purple striped scarf around her neck.

This turn of events makes it considerably harder to play, so you accidentally fall off the track, allowing Mr. Karkles over there to pass you. You end up coming in second by a fucking PIXEL. You take a picture and it was actually one pixel on your TV separating you from the terrible beginner on the other side of the couch. "HAHAHAHAHA I BEAT YOU F-... DAVE. I BEAT YOU BY SO MUCH TH-" you promptly throw a cushion in the general area that his face occupies. You resist the urge to start laughing as he throws the cushion back at you. You easily deflect it. "Dude, don't hit lil' Casey over here. She's just a little amazin' five-year-old that shouldn't be the target for airborne cushions. Have some respect."

Karkat rolls his eyes, which are green as fuck, and gives you the finger. You put your hand over Casey's eyes, all while keeping your signature poker face. She pushes your hand away just as Karkat lowers his. The silence is deafening as you pick a new track to play. This time, Casey sits next to you, so you can actually move your arms. You beat Karkitty by at least thirty seconds, but you don't bother to count. Karkat is muttering under his breath, and Casey runs out of the room, probably to see Bro, who just got back from something he was doing. You don't question what Bro does. It is not the Strider way.

As soon as Casey leaves, there is a, "I beat you once, fuckwad. I'm fine with that," from the other side of the room. You smirk and turn the game off, leaning back onto the couch. "So... how do you know John?" Woah, you weren't really expecting that from Mr. Shouty. You keep the poker face, and start tossing and catching a rock you had in your pocket from your earlier strife up and down, not looking at Karkat. "Used to live up here. In those younger days. Why do you ask?" you try to sound as non-interested as you possibly can, and you suspect it works. "No reason, fuckass." You roll your eyes behind your shades, and a genius (not really) idea pops into your head. "Do you know how to strife?" you ask.

* * *

You, Bro, and Karkat stand on the roof of the Egbert household, each wielding a katana. "Here, let me demonstrate," you try a swift swing at Bro, but he deflects it easily. You parry eachothers blows over and over until the first wound is given- in this case, you give Bro a quick and shallow slash on the left shoulder. You both stop, not showing any emotion that an amature like Karkat can detect. You, however, know when Bro is proud of you.

Karkat is watching you both in awe, and you and Bro both smirk. "You get it now?" Karkat gives a slow nod. "Well than try it out on me. Just attack. Don't worry, I won't die." Karkat scowls and swings at you. You remember when you swung like that. You were eight, and had just started learning to strife. You, by instinct, block the blow quickly, and rest the tip of your blade to his throat. "Don't swing hard, swing fast. They're not the same thing." Bro's lessons should be put into a book. How to Strife for Fucking Amateurs.

Karkat gives a brisk nod and you lower your blade. You both get into your positions, you with the higher ground, and Karkat swings at you, faster and more effective than his last swing. You block it again. You hear a "-fucking impossible," and you smirk again. But what did you expect? "Bro, whats the time?" Bro checks his watch. "Damn, it's already 5:30. Karkat, if you need to leave, you can." Karkat shakes his head. "Good," Bro says, and you get your ass back to practicing immediately.

After another straight hour of flashstepping and parrying, you feel like you're going to roast in hell's inferno a million times over. How the  **hell** is Karkat still in that damn sweater? You decide you are going to burn to death, so you take off your shirt, and let the cool wind run over your skin. Karkat is... staring at you? And you can tell Bro is holding himself back from laughing. You, pissed off, press your blade to Karkat's throat once again. "Don't get fucking distracted," you mutter. Karkat scowls, then nods, and you get back to the blade-on-blade stuff.

For each new lesson/move that Karkat wants to learn, you demonstrate with Bro for a good five minutes. Strifing is rather tiring, but you are used to it. It's obvious that Karkat isn't. "Time?" you ask again. He shows you his watch. It's already seven? Damn. Well, you'd better get inside. You suggest this idea the rest of your group, and they both agree to get inside immediately. You pick up your shirt and throw it over your shoulder, and leap off the roof.

You are getting pretty used to this roof, and you stick the landing, your feet making a quiet squishing noise on the damp grass. Bro follows, and Karkat is left standing on the roof. "Jump or sleep on the roof, Kitkat. It's your choice," and you start to head inside. Karkat bites his lip and jumps off, landing right on his ass. You try your best not to burst out laughing. You fail.

Karkat glares at you, but you can tell he's trying not to laugh as well. You walk over and offer Karkat help up, and he grabs your wrist and pulls himself up. You don't object to the pain in your wrist, but you smack Karkat's hand when he tries to take off your shades. "Not the shades, bro. Bad Karkitty." He ignores you and walks inside while you mutter about bad kitties.

* * *

You wake up at around two thirty the next afternoon to John smirking down at you. "Man, you slept until the end of school and beyond," his goofy buck-toothed grin spreads across his face. "Oh fuck off, I was strifing last night. That shit kills the muscles. You open your eyes and fumble for your shades. John has seen you without your shades a few times, you doubt your cherry red eyes will creep him out. You put your shades on and tell John to get the fuck out so you can shower in peace. He leaves, and you do indeed shower in peace.

After you get out of the shower and dress, you go again into the bathroom in a futile attempt to tame your hair. You end up just having a giant mass of fluffy yellow-white hair on your head. You put your shades on and head out of the room.

You emerge to Karkat and John arguing about some random shit that no one really cares about, and Rose, talking with someone you've never seen before in your life. Rose turns to you. "Dave! I haven't seen you in what, three years? Yes, I think that is correct. Dave, this is Kanaya Maryam, my girlfriend. Kanaya, this is Dave Strider, my cousin." You look at the other girl, Kanaya, you remind yourself, as she reaches out her hand for you to shake. "Nice to meet you, Dave." Damn, Kanaya has a tight grip. You shake her hand anyways. 

"Well, John," Rose started, "thank you for letting me over, but I really need to get back to Mom and Roxy. They're probably both drunk out of their minds right now. Bye!" She grabbed Kanaya's hand and sped out the door.

You hear the familiar sound of flying metal behind your head, and turn to a katana flying straight toward you. Bro has given you these tests many times before, so you know how to respond. You do a backflip, kicking the blade of the sword so it spins, and you catch the sword by its handle. Bro is leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, a position in which no one could have thrown a blade from merely three seconds ago. Karkat, however, looks like he just let one fly. Wide stance, shoulders facing you, arm slightly bent in front of his right leg.

You have to admit, you are duly impressed. Not many people can throw a katana that accurately, even experienced ones. You just look at Karkat, and he looks at his feet. "It was a good throw, nothing to be ashamed of, Karkles." Karkat looks up at you, and you are struggling to keep your poker face. You are spared by Dadbert. "Dirk! Can you send Karkat over for a minute? I need to speak with him. And please no swordfights inside the house. Karkat looks confused, but heads to the kitchen, where Mr. Egbert waits.

You and Bro both listen in on their conversation, and feel absolutely no shame in doing so whatsoever. "Karkat, since your father is going to be out of town for the summer, and you do not have a key to your home, I feel it is my responsibility to let you stay here until he returns. Is that alright with you?" Karkat slowly nods. You and Bro look at eachother. There were only two guest bedrooms in the Egbert house. "Well shit," you mutter, "Dadbert's got himself a crowded house."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is short, but at least I have continued a fanfic. ACHIEVEMENT GAINED. I hope to have the next chapter up soon, so stay with me and I'll get it up ASAP


	3. Umm... lil' dude?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bro looks at you. You can tell he wants to say something, so you stand with him in a quiet hallway. "Uh... lil' dude?" You nod. "I was just on the phone with Jake-" you know Jake. Your Bro's friend, who he undoubtedly has the feels for, and John's cousin, "-and I said he could have the house. Just for the summer though. Looks like we're stuck here lil' man."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you don't get confused, there is a POV switch in the middle of the chapter. Hope you enjoy!

Bro looks at you. You can tell he wants to say something, so you stand with him in a quiet hallway. "Uh... lil' dude?" You nod. "I was just on the phone with Jake-" you know Jake. Your Bro's friend, who he undoubtedly has the feels for, and John's cousin, "-and I said he could have the house. Just for the summer though. Looks like we're stuck here lil' man." Damn, Villa de la Egbert'll be really crowded. For the whole summer. Just you, Bro, Karkat, Casey, and Dadbert. Not crowded at all. You nod at Bro, a quick, incredulous nod, and you walk away. "Away" just happens to be face down on your bed muttering about whatever you can think of.

Now the only matter to be decided was where Karkles would crash at night. After a good deal of you, Bro, and John arguing, it is decided that Kitkat will sleep in Casey's room, and Casey will sleep with John. Of course, Casey's tiny, so there will be no awkwardness or sleeping on the floor in this house. You strife occasionally with Bro, and sometimes Karkat who wants to learn some new move, until John and Karkat's school ends. They come home on the last day, looking like someone just beat them up mentally, but they were still smiling. A big, goofy one from John, and a slight turn at the corners of the mouth from Karkat.

You start school again in about three months, but you have no idea what to do with the rest of your summer, but as the heat draws on, you see that John and Karkat seem to hate every fiber of being in the other's body. They totally despised each other. You, however, can't help but smirk every time you see them arguing with each other. It, honestly, is absolutely hilarious. To you at least.

They arguing today. Again. You walk up to them to break up yet  **another** fight the two are having. You send John to his room and take Karkat up to the roof. Getting his ass handed to him on a silver platter is his punishment for every time he argues with John. You toss him a katana, which he is getting better at catching without cutting himself. You two get in position. Karkat is wearing a t-shirt, finally, that is black with the cancer zodiac symbol on it. You have no idea why he likes that symbol so much, but it's about a hundred degrees, so you assume he'll burn to death. You had taken off your red gear shirt off inside, just before you had broken up the fight.

Karkat swings first, and you obviously block the blow. But this strife is different for two reasons. One, Karkat deals you the first blow, a shallow cut to the arm, but you promptly knock his sword off of the house in return. Two, Karkat does actually end of throwing off his shirt. You tell yourself not to stare, because then he would get crazy ideas. You  **do not** want that.

* * *

You are doing surprisingly better than you thought strifing with this douchebag. You gave Dave the first cut that drew blood on his arm, but you realize that is fucking  **hot** out here. You, carefully and slowly, pull your black shirt over your head. Dave is courteous enough not to swing at you during this transition. He keeps that goddamned poker face that you are so sick of. The dick. You two are currently engrossed in a complex series of swings, steps, and blocks, and don't notice Bro- Dirk, you remind yourself- climb onto the roof and lean on the chimney. Dave apparently notices, because his movements become more liquid. He's only  **trying** to win because his brother's here, you realize.

Within the minute, Dave's sword is at your throat. He helps pull you up, and you look at Dirk. You can tell that he and his brother have some kind of mental communication method that let them both read each other's emotions. You see Dirk looking at Dave with something- pride?- in his eyes. The Strider way has always confused you, from the minute you laid eyes on the two. You mean, what the absolute flying fuck? But they  **do**  get each other, and that's what matters. What the fuck are you thinking? They're douchebags. Fairly attractive douchebags, but douchebags nonetheless.

Your mind starts wandering, and you wonder why they wear shades. Are they just trying to look cool? Or they actually have a serious eye problem? You are snapped out of your useless mind drifting by yet another sword at your throat, but Dirk's this time. Dave is nowhere to be seen. He must have left while you were thinking. Dirk looks you straight in the eye, or at least you think he is, behind the triangular shades. "You hurt my brother, you die." And then he's gone.

* * *

You are laying on your back with your shades on your bedside table. Another hard day of strifing, gone and passed. You were actually impressed with Karkat's progress. Not many people can learn as fast as he is. Though, you haven't taught anyone before. Or, you think, thought anyone was cute the way he was, with his ginger hair and bright green eyes. You knock that train of though right off its fucking tracks and watch it land in a volcano, crash, and burn.

You are staring at the ceiling when there is a knock at your door. You mutter a "come in," and the object of your earlier thoughts enters your room. You don't have time to fumble for your shades as he flips the lights on. You are just looking, wide-eyed, at an equally shocked Karkat. It's not every day that you realize that someone has creepy bright red eyes. He pretends not to notice, though, and has apparently forgotten what he was going to say anyway. Great. This is the last thing you need, more awkward silences. You check your iPhone for the time. 6:30. Not really all that late, actually.

"Um... I just wanted to say thanks for the strifing lessons. And since school's over... how often can they get? I wanna be able to kick Kankri's ass by the time he comes home with Dad." You think for a moment, processing his words, also holding yourself back from making a total asshole comment. "I can do every day. It's not like anything else to do, so I might as well be able to hand Bro's ass to him on terrain de la Egbert by the and of summer, also." You rub your eyes. There's something strange about the way that Karkat's looking at you. It's kinda like he's trying to communicate with you like you and Bro do.

But you and Bro have been practicing for the entirety of your life. You and Karkat just met a month ago... yet still...

You shoot the train of thought that apparently hadn't been damaged enough by its falling and burning, so you shoot it down with a bazooka as well. There, seems safe. Enough. There's a bit of an awkward silence between the two of you, and Karkat leaves the room, turning off the lights and closing the door. You fall asleep within the minute.

* * *

The next morning, you are awoken by the tip of a blade at your neck. Bro occasionally gives you tests like these as well, so you kick the hilt of the blade so the blade turns and is in your hand. You hold the blade to the neck of a dark figure, and you hear a kind of choked laughter. "Ready to strike, even in the morning, Strider?" Of course it's Karkat. You check the time. 10:17. Pretty decent sleep, you decide. Next, you check the weather. Supposed to be 102. Fucking bullshit is what this is. You drag yourself out of bed, handing Karkat his sword back.

You slip on a pair of shorts and don't even bother looking for a shirt, at the heat it's gonna be soon. You pick up your shades last,, because your eyes are  **extremely fucking sensitive**  to the light. You two quickly make it up to the roof, climbing up the side of the house, and Karkat tosses you your sword. You catch it with ease and decide to strike first, for once. Karkat is obviously caught off guard by your display, and you disarm him quickly, letting his sword fly out of his and and onto the rooftop.

"Lesson one, look the fuck up so that doesn't happen." Karkat is smiling. What the fuck. Karkat doesn't smile. Like ever. You toss his sword back to him and get again into a defensive position. Of course you notice Bro sneaking up the house and sitting in his spot leaning against the chimney. You flash him a classic "what the hell" look just as Karkat lunges at you. You deflect the swing and give him a quick cut on the thigh, just for good measure. He scowls at you as a small stain of red forms where you cut him.

You try not to look the least bit concerned as he kneels and looks at the cut. It isn't that bad, probably just a bit painful. Bro gives you the cue, and you lightly place your sword on his throat. "Lesson some fucking large number, show no weakness," you whisper and help him up. He stands just about an inch below you, and you throw a grenade at the previously mentioned train of your thoughts.

Karkat mutters a "thanks," and turns to face Bro. "What the  **fuck**  are you looking at, douchebag?" Bro raises his eyebrows and throws something. Your brain decides to shut down. There should be a giant sign, "sorry, brain has exploded and can no longer process flying objects." This flying object just happened to be a knife that was flying straight toward Karkat. You were standing directly behind him, and when he leapt out of the way, you were in the knife's path.

You try to flashstep out of the way, but the blade still catches you on the arm. You put a hand over the quickly reddening wound and pick up the knife. You throw it back at Bro, who easily catches it and puts it back in his belt. "A bit out of practice with knives, Dave?" He is smirking. The bastard. Karkat's apparently in shock that you actually got hurt. You take away your hand, and it is covered in your blood. The air stings the cut, and you wince and put your hand back.

"Gotta follow your own advice, lil' dude." You would snap something clever back, but the flesh in your upper arm thinks differently. You jump off the roof, only stumbling a little as you speed-walk inside. You go into the bathroom attached to your bedroom- that you don't share with anyone, thank god- and run cold water over your arm. Sure, it stings, but you've done this plenty of times before, and you know exactly how to make the bleeding and pain stop.

You observe the wound, fairly deep, but you'll be fine, you think. There is a loud knock on your door, and you know immediately who it is. As Karkat enters your bathroom, his eyes widen, and you smirk. "Afraid of a little blood, Karkles?" You take some of that medical tape stuff- you have no idea what the fuck it's called- and put it on your arm over a folded piece of cloth. You tie the tapey stuff on the back, and feel a sudden rush of relief as the pain almost completely fades.

"Irrelevant. Are you okay?" You have to admit that you are surprised at the softness in his usually snappy voice. He must actually genuinely care. Huh. "Yeah, fine. I've dealt with this kind of thing a million times." Karkat doesn't seem so sure, but he doesn't press further. You walk out and plop down on your bed, gently so not to hurt your arm further, and you are quickly joined by Karkat. You sit in silence for a few minutes, until Casey runs in.

"Davey hurt?" she runs up to you and gives you a good squeeze. "I'm fine, Casey, ACK. Yes, it's that arm, please don't hurt it." It is then that you realize that Bro is standing, smirking, at the doorway. You glare at him, and he rolls his eyes and leaves. You have trained yourself to be able to see behind his shades, as he has with you. Casey is still clinging to you like a leech, and you try to gently pry the five-year-old off. You fail.

She hands you Viceroy Bubbles von Salamander. "Viceroy'll make Dave feel better." You smile as Casey scurries out of the room. "Wait just one motherfucking second," Karkat starts, and you look at him, "did  **Dave Strider** just  **smile**? Is that even physically possible for such a douche?" You push him over with your good arm, and he starts laughing. "Now  **you** just wait one motherfucking second. Is  **Karkat** laughing? Is that possible? We'll find out after the break, back to you, random reporter dude." That just makes him laugh harder.

You are suddenly reminded that your arm hurts like hell and it's only eleven in the morning. Karkat is practically dying of laughter, and you put your hand up to your throbbing arm. Karkat finally stops his laughing fit and notices you clenching your arm and staring at the wall. "Dave, you okay?" You clench your teeth and nod, "Dave, I know how to patch up these kinds of things, so if you would let me look at it..." He was reaching out his and to touch the place where the bandages were sloppily put on. You nod, and he starts undoing the bandages.

As soon as the last bit is peeled off, you immediately feel the rush of cool air on the wound. "One sec..." Karkat bundles up the old bandages and tosses them in the garbage can. He pick up new ones and sits on your left side, the side of your injured arm. "This may hurt a little-" you nod, and Karkat starts applying some kind of cream to the wound. His fingertips are surprisingly gentle on your exposed skin, and the pain vanishes yet again. He expertly wraps the tape-like stuff around your arm, and the cut is covered again in no time.

You realize that if you had left your old bandages on, the cut may have gotten infected, and that would be hell for you. "Thanks, Karkat," you look toward your doorway, and, not surprisingly, Bro is standing there yet again, smirking like the dick he is. You feel Karkat stiffen, and he leaves the room, casting you a concerned glance on his way out. "So, what're you up to?" Bro asks, smirking like nobody's business.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a bit longer, but I hope to be adding more on to it soon. I love you if you've stayed with me this entire time ^u^ I have no idea how long this thing will be.


	4. In which Dave discovers that this movie is shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karkat asks you if you want to see a movie with him. Neither of you can drive, so you decide the basement would be good also.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, so here's another chapter. I think it'll be okay :B YAY MORE POV CHANGES

"Go the fuck away, Bro. You chucked a knife at me." Bro chuckles, "Hey, if you had been prepared-" you scowl at him, and he throws his arms up mockingly. "Fine, lil' dude," and he leaves the room. Thank god. You put a broken record shirt on and leave the room as well, turning off the lights and shutting the door behind you. Karkat is leaning on the wall about ten feet away from your door, and he looks relieved as you exit your room.

When you walk up to him, Karkat asks you if you want to see a movie with him. Neither of you can drive, so you decide the basement would be good for the movie thing also. You follow him into the basement of the Egbert house. He starts looking through the movie selection as Dadbert and John come in, talking about something or another.

They both looked up at the exact same time, and you realize how dauntingly similar John is beginning to look to his father. "Dave, what are-?" John starts, and then he notices Karkat and they scowl at each other. John almost never shows anything other than complete happiness, so he must hate Karkat's guts. Karkat seems to feel the same way, for he glares at John until he leaves.

Karkat puts in a movie and sits on the couch about a foot-and-a-half to your right. He smashes a few buttons on the remote, but the movie eventually starts without a problem. You've seen this movie a million times. It's complete bullshit. They reveal the entire ending in the beginning of the movie. Who even does that? You find yourself not much paying attention to the film as much as Karkat, and you are taking in every single detail- like a creeper, you add to yourself.

You, like the creeper you are, notice how he clenches his jaw every time an action-packed, yet horrendously obvious and boring, part comes on. How his bright green eyes reflect the light of the TV. You've never felt so gay in your entire life, and you want to punch yourself. Instead, you just turn your head away and stare blankly at the movie screen. You rest your head on your hands, but you can't help your eyes occasionally flickering over to Karkat.

You hate yourself so fucking much right now.

At about thirty minutes into the movie, you catch Karkat looking at you, but you both immediately turn your eyes toward the screen. You find ourself in the previous situation a few more times throughout the film, and the train of thought that you are now calling BAD FUCKING THOUGHTS has placed itself back on the tracks. No matter what you do, you can't shoot that damn thing down.

By the end of the movie, you and Karkat are sitting maybe an inch apart. You honestly have no idea how that happened. No idea at all. You stand up and put a better movie in the player, this one a movie you've never heard of. You sit back down two inches from Karkat, and hit play on the remote. "Oh shit," you realize as soon as the film starts playing that it's a horror movie. "Goddammit. Kitkat, do you want me to change the movie? I think you may just shit your pants if you watch this one." He shrugs and leans back on the couch.

"Your loss," and you resume the movie. You don't scream at all, and neither does Karkitty. Don't wanna risk drawing attention from Bro or Dadbert. The movie is seriously fucking scary though, and you can feel Karkat shaking next to you. Or are you shaking? You suspect that you both are. Welp, this is gonna be a long night.

* * *

Is Dave Strider, famous for his poker face and false lack of feelings, shaking? You think so, for he  **is** just sitting- crap you guys' legs are touching now. You have to admit, the movie is pretty damn horrifying. You can see that your hands are shaking where they are, clutching your knee. From what you have gathered through your totally nonexistent sneak glances at Dave, he is trying pretty hard not so show emotion. He's struggling, yet succeeding. You can see behind his shades, but barely.

A few times, Dave has looked back at you. Either to say "what the fuck" or not, you immediately snap your eyes back to the screen. A few times during the movie, there is this really fucking scary part, and you clench your knee so hard that your knuckles turn white. You can see him smiling, and is a mix between really irritating and the most fucking adorable thing you've possibly ever seen.

Just because those parts were apparently "extremely obvious, so how the hell did you not see that coming?" that doesn't mean he can smirk at you like his dickhead brother. You suppose that's where he gets it from, though. "Dude, you're kinda hurting me." You look down, and you are grabbing Dave's hand like a child. You immediately move your straying hand back to where it belongs on your knee. You look over again, though, and the beginning of a smile is forming at the corners of his mouth.

You can't decide if you want to punch him or kiss him. Your life choices are so difficult. The movie is not even halfway through, though, but it's already about 5:45. You hate to admit that you're getting pretty tired. Stupid school schedule fucking up your natural alarm clock. You yawn and lean back on the couch anyways, no matter how much you hate yourself for doing it.

You swear that bastard's smirking again. Damn you, Dave Strider. Damn you. You feel yourself drifting toward sleep, however, and let your eyes shut.

* * *

He fell asleep. Fucking adorable is what this is. Ginger hair all fluffed up, staticy to the couch. You know the way he's leaning on the couch will hurt his neck- you learned yourself the hard way- and you slowly move Karkat's head into your lap. There ain't no better way to sleep. You finish the last few minutes of the movie- the obvious facts revealed; he's the murderer, she is the next one killed, and so on- and turn all the stuffs off.

You swear if Bro comes in now you will personally strangle him and feed his body to the osprey that lives across the street on a pole. You sit in near silence, with only Karkat's breathing and occasional snoring keeping the room from complete quiet. You're actually quite glad there isn't complete silence. You just watched a horror movie for fucks sake. You wonder how the hell Karkat can even attempt sleep. The fact that he succeeded is just a fucking miracle.

You set your shades on the table in front of the couch and close your eyes. You know that sleep won't come for a while, but you might as well try. It at least gives you time to fuck up Karkat's hair without him noticing. As soon as your hand reaches his head, the first thing you notice is how soft the ginger tufts of hair are. You can't resist running your fingers through it. It's literally impossible.

The fluffy hair distracts you from your thoughts about the horror movie just watched. Just enough so that you can fall asleep, in the same uncomfortable position that you saved Karkat from just moments ago. He's gonna kill you when he wakes up, but he  **was** the one who was clutching your hand like a scared three-year-old. You decide to stop thinking and go the fuck to sleep. You succeed in your goal.

* * *

You know your day's going to be great when your first thought of the morning is "HOLYSHITWHATTHEFUCKISGOINGON." Your sentiments exactly. You wake up laying sideways, that's normal, but your head is resting on someone's lap. SHIT SHIT SHIT. You sit right the fuck up that very instant. Dave, however, is leaning back on the couch, sleeping peacefully. You run your hand through your hair. It is slightly less tangled than usual. Huh.

You hear movement from next to you, and you suppose Dave is awake. He rubs his eyes, and you catch a brief glimpse of the bright red in his eyes. He may hate it all he wants, but you will always think that the cherry red is pretty amazing.

"Have a good night sleep?" Oh god, he's smirking yet again. Ha ha. You are so amused. "Depends," you reply, "what time is it?" He checks his phone for the time. "And it is... seven-thirty. Thirteen hours. That's actually pretty good." You nod, running your hand through your hair once again. Why the hell is it not knotted and sticking up in a million different directions?

Dave doesn't cast his shades another glance, but he does crack his neck a few times. It must be painful, you realize, to sleep in the position that he did. He seems to have just realized that his arm was injured, and he put his right hand back up to the bandages. "You're gonna need to change those soon," you blurt out without thinking. Dave looks over at you.

He smirks, "I probably should, shouldn't I? But you know me, avoiding all the-AGH- okay, maybe I should change the bandages." He quickly slips his shades on and follows you to his room, still clutching his arm. You both sit on his bed, you to the left, where the bandage is. "This will probably hurt like hell," and you undo the medical tape.

Dave winces at the pain, but says nothing. You bundle up the used, bloody tape and throw it away, picking up a new roll as you walk back. You carefully rewrap his arm, trying your hardest not to hurt it. You have to admit, the cut looks a whole lot better. It's scabbing over quite nicely, in fact. "There, that should do the trick. But no strifing until I say so." Dave gives an exasperated sigh, "Yes, Mom," and rolls his eyes.

You don't strife at all that day. Dave is too hurt, and strifing with Dirk? No way in heaven or hell that that's gonna happen. Better than strifing with John though. John's horrible in every way humanly possible, and you don't know how Dave is friends with such a moronic, nerdy shithead. It baffles you how they two get along, but you guess John probably wonders why you and Dave get along so well...

You ignore your thought process completely, and finish eating your shitty chicken sandwich. Some time passes. Then some more. And finally you are met by... Dirk?

"What do  **you** want, Dirk?" You snap. You know you're being a little harsh, but hey, he kinda deserves it. "How's Dave?" Dirk's voice comes out flat, but you can tell that he's withholding emotion from you, "he won't talk to me." That was surprising. "Why isn't he? Lemme guess, he's sitting in his room and told you to fuck off." You can see Dirk's eyes widen a bit.

"Exactly, bro." Hey, you guessed right. You nod. Now it's your turn to act like the emotionless person. "You should go talk to him," and then Dirk, as usual, vanishes practically into thin air. You consider his advice, then your legs get the better of you and take you away to Dave's room. You knock on the door. "Bro, if that is you coming to try to see me  **again** , I swear I will-" you laugh, quietly, but you assume he hears you, because he stops mid-sentence.

You hear footsteps through the door, and it opens a crack to reveal Dave standing there, looking like he just got out of his bed, which you are right to assume he did. "Uh... hey, Karkat. Did Bro put you up to this? Because if he did I will  **kill** him." You shake your head, and Dave lets you in, not without looking down the hall for a familiar pair of triangular shades.

"How're you? Is your arm better? You'll have to change the bandaging again tonight-" you are cut of by the goddamned smirk. You cross your arms, "What?" Dave just shakes his head, "it's actually pretty funny how much you care. It's just a little scratch. I'll be fine. I'm just gonna chill in my room like the fucking hermit I am. Not come out until the terrible fates force it at me."

"Well I actually just had a conversation with those fates, and they said that Dave Strider needs to get his lazy ass out of his godforsaken room or Karkat Vantas will personally force it upon him like a mother forcing their lazy-ass baby to eat their damn mashed potatoes." Dave smiles and sits on his bed like the stubborn bastard he is, and shakes his head.

You, of course, try to shove him off the bed, but you eventually fail. You end up laying on your back on his bed, occasionally lightly kicking his back. He gets tired of your whining and puts a pillow on your face. You smile, which of course he can't see, and lay there calmly until he flicks your arm. You sit bolt upright. "Dude, what the  **fuck** -" and you hit him with the pillow.

Dave starts laughing, and you do as well. After the laughter has died off- a few minutes later- you, and apparently Dave, realize that his glasses were knocked off of his head sometime. Probably when you hit him in the face with the pillow of death.

"So... you live in Houston?" You are trying not to make anything awkward. "Yeah," Dave scratches his head, "way warmer down there, and way more bugs. It's pretty terrible actually, except for Jade, Terezi, and Jake. They're cool. I think you would like them." You nod. "Actually, the only good things here are Nepeta, Gamzee, and Sollux. Other than that, all of Washington state is pretty much shit."

"John tells me it rains all the time here. And what do your friends look like? I think I've heard those names before." You begin to describe them. Nepeta with her Wolverine-type claws hidden in her white lab coat that she wore all the time, how Gamzee is a scary as fuck clown with hair that looks like a black fucking fire that exploded from his fucking hair, and how Sollux has his lisp and 3D glasses.

Dave nods, and tell you about his friends from Houston. Jade was apparently John's cousin who moved all the time, Terezi is blind, but has kickass glasses and an awesome cane that she carries around everywhere and Jake is Jade's older brother who Dirk apparently has a  **huge** crush on. "They sound cool," you say. **  
**

He says the same about your friends, and you talk for a while about your places of birth. You tell him about your dad and Kankri, who were both honestly total asses. He tells  you a bit more about Dirk and how he learned to strife. You talk for a really long time until it is finally time to go to sleep. You head to your respective room, and go the fuck to sleep right that very moment.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit longer, but I hope it's just as good as the others. I'll try to update as often as I can in the next week, even though I'll be somewhere. Thanks and I love you all ^u^


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know I really do hate to be the bearer of bad news... whoops. This one's a bit late, so sorry 'bout that. Camps are a bit hectic, so I'll update whenever I can. Thanks.

You wake up and immediately get dressed, making absolute sure not to forget your shades. You are sure you've gone on rants about how they protect your eyes and shit. You're sick of explaining it to people, so you just stopped trying.

You then examine your wound, slowly peeling off the waxy tape covering it. All that remains of the cut is an ugly red line, so you determine that you are okay to strife today. You will have all of the strifes. All of them. Every last strife will be had today.

You pick up your unsheathed katana and leave your room, slowly closing the door behind you, as not to unnecessarily wake any of the house's other residents. You slowly exit the house through the back door and head to the ladder on the side of the house, which conviently lead to the roof above.

You climb the honestly terrible ladder and remember you forgot your shoes. Wow. Smooth move, Strider. The grey shingles were surprisingly cold under your bare feet for summer.

You look up and notice that the clouds are the same intimiding grey as the shingles, and you suspect that either some kind of weather is coming in, or it's really early in the morning. You chek the time. 6:21. You had thought your internal clock had stopped with the waking up at six in the morning, you had apparently thought wrong.

You discard any thoughts of rain as you begin to stretch. You don't normally do so, but you haven't strifed or even laid a finger on a sword for the past few days, so you at least try to warm up. After a few minutes of that, you pick up the sword again and begin to spar an invisible opponent.

You slash and stab and swing to your heart's desire, but you still think you would get more practice sparring an actual, living being. Maybe Bro or Karkat. You are about to take another swing and-

God has decided to take a piss. Right on top of you. You stare out onto the Egbert front lawn. It is pretty bleak out there, nothing new to report. Sorry anyone who actually cares. It's just wet. Really wet.

You notice that you are begnning to get soaked, and at this time you notice a single light in a window of another house. This realization is buried as you notice the cold seeping into your clothes and through your hair. You shiver, and your phone buzzes.

You type in your password and open up the Pesterchum app. Most people you know have it, because some of you do not yet have phones, and this is the next best thing.

tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 07:04:13

TT: You do know that it is much too early to be standing on the roof  
TT: Much less in the rain  
TT: Are you alright?  
TG: dandy  
TG: rose, what do you want  
TG: and how do you know im standing in the rain  
TG: or on a roof  
TT: I happen to live just across the street  
TT: and seeing a mysterious figure outside my window, I naturally assumed that it was you  
TT: It seems that I was correct in my assumption  
TG: oh of course  
TG: i should have expected an answer like that  
TG: anyway what do you want?  
TG: the great rose lalonde does not simply grace dave striders presence without reason  
TG: unless intoxicated of course  
TT: I am not intoxicated, I just have a question for you  
TG: and that is...?  
TT: I was just wondering how you and Karkat are  
TG: ok  
TG: what the hell rose  
TG: me and kitkat are not together in any way  
TG: i dont know if we even qualify as friends  
TG: why the hell do you ask  
TT: Kanaya was just curious, and I told her that I did not know, so I decided to consult you about the matter  
TT: Really, you should not be getting so defensive about this whole idea  
TT: The thought has crossed my mind a few times, in fact  
TG: then kanaya should talk to me about it herself instead of using you as a petty messenger  
TT: I did in fact give her your Chumhandle  
TT: I do believe she will consult with you in only a matter of minutes  
TT: Good day, Dave  
tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 7:15:41

Well that was exhausting. But it was Rose. Meddling meddley meddlesome and her meddley friend. Don't they know meddling is rude? You almost sigh, and lean against the chimney, just now remembering that you are soaked to the bone.

You hear the creak of the old ladder as someone climbs up, and you instinctively move to the other side of the chimney, where whoever it is cannot see you from where the ladder hooks to the roof.

You are about to hop off of the roof when you hear two muffled voices and quite a bit of complaining from one of the two, whom you suspect to be Karkat. The other voice has a slight accent. British? "Dave, I know you are up here. Please come out."

She pronounced every word very carefully, and you immediately suspect that the voice belongs to Kanaya. You need to make it look like you weren't hiding, so you sit down and get on your phone, putting your earbuds in.

They catch on quickly and walk over to you. There is a tap on your shoulder, and you look up, obviously bearing a masterful poker face. "Dave, get your sorry ass up. Kanaya wants to talk with you." He has his arms crossed over his chest, and the rain has his hair sticking up in a million different directions.

You silently wrap your earbuds around your phone and thank the chimney for supplying at least a bit of dryness. Another reason that you could just be casually sitting and listening to your sick beats. You pocket your phone and stand up, not bothering to try to rid your hair of the wetness.

"Why would Kanaya like to talk to me? Am I just so amazing that every person within a three mile radius has to flock to grace themselves with my presence?" Karkat scowled and shook his head, turning around to tell Kanaya that you were in this location. You heard small thumps as she made her way over.

"Rose literally just told me you'd be over in a few mitues. I didn't think she actually meant you were coming over to-" you are interrupted by a very harsh soundind "Dave, shut the fuck up," from Karkat. You take a few moments to glare at Karkat from behind your shades. "Dave, this is an important matter we need to discuss. I hate to be the bearer of bad news but," she paused to clear her throat.

"There was an accident." You are officially interested and honestly concerned. Why would they come to you? "What happenned?" You try t hide the concern in your voice, and succeed for the most part. "Dirk was driving-" you cut her off. "Bro. His name is Bro." Shit, you heard your voice waver for a second there.

"As I was saying, Di- Bro- was driving, and the person behind him hit his car from behind. Hard. I'm so sorry, Dave." You look confused for a second, then realize what Kanaya's getting at. "He's not-" your voice catches in your throat. Shit.

"I am aftraid so, Dave. Dirk went to the hospital a few hours ago, and he- he didn't make it. Mr. Egbert called Rose's mom, who told Rose in a drunken fit of anguish, who told me. She says she is not yet ready to leave her room-" Your entire chest feels like it was crushed. You can't breathe.

Your shades have been pulled off of your face, but you honestly don't give a shit. Your throat burns from holding back tears, and you give up on that shit, like it really mattered anyway.

Bro was your inspiration. The image you wanted to live up to one day. He always looked after you since your father died, when you were very young. You become aware of ugly, choked sobs echoing from around you. You discover that these noises were coming for you, and you sit back down and put your head in your hands, still making choking, sobbing noises.

You barely see Karkat and Kanaya crouching down. You barely hear more steps coming to you. You barely hear John tell Karkat and Kanaya to fuck off. You hear shooshes from him and feel him lift your head. Wait... is he shoosh-papping you?

You are too distressed and tired to object to the shoosh-papping, but your full out sobbing turns down to a few silent tears streaming down your face. Your knuckles are white from your hands being clutched into fists. You immediately unclench your fists and relax your shoulders, which you didn't realize were tense at all.

You are leaning back against the chimney, probably looking like a total wreck. You don't give a shit. Honestly, you don't. None of the shits are given. None of them. "C-can I be l-left alone for a b-bit?" You choke out. You know your voice sounds raw and nasty. Of course you know.

John just gives a slight nod and gets up, going to talk to Kanaya and Karkat, you assume. Kanaya and Karkat. Shit. You have to talk to them eventually. You wish this never happened. You hop off the roof and into the house. You turn down the hall and into your room, slamming the door behind you. You will not talk to anyone for days.

You lock yourself in your room. You don't come out until a desperate knocking rouses you from sleep two days later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger there. I'll try to update it tomorrow or the day after. Next chapter will probably be a recovery chapter. Also, please comment which fic you would like me to update first: Davekat (my other Davekat fic) or this one. Thanks guys!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this is really late. Sorry about that

You are really starting to worry about Dave. He's locked himself in his room for days without coming out. You have decided to go in and talk to him, since you figure he's had enough time to himself lately. You walk calmly into the kitchen, though your mind is whirring and clicking in a million different ways. "Whatcha up to, Karkat?" you loo over to see John, leaning smugly on the refrigerator.

  
"Fuck off, Egbert. I just want a fucking bagel." You narrow your eyes enough to see him smirk and move out of the way, allowing you to get the cream cheese out of the fridge. You hate him. You hate him down to the very fibers of your being. You place the cream cheese down on the granite countertop and reach up to open one of the wooden cabinets that contained bagels. You are fairly short, so it is a struggle to get up to. John makes no move to help. Of course he doesn't. You two share this mutual hate that is so strong it could probably become solid and smash both of you with a mallet. Wouldn't that be something.

After you finally reach the bag of bagels, you take one out and leave the rest tied up in their plasticy prison. You pick up a shitty paper plate, all while John Egbert was glaring daggers into your back. You have no clue why he and Dave are so close. It confuses you to even think about. While the cream cheese is being spread onto the circular bread, you take a moment to send Egbert a "fuck you" death glare. You pick up the plate, now holding the bagel, and head out of the kitchen and into the winding hall.

It doesn't take long to find Dave's room. You've memorized the route. Two rights and a left and you're there. You hesitate before giving the wooden door two solid knocks. You hear a few muffled footsteps and a tired "who's there," followed by a yawn. "Who do you think it is, fuckass." Smooth, Vantas. Smooth. But you assume he recognizes you, because there's a chuckle, a click, and the door opens halfway.

You step inside and close the door, which shut with a quiet clicking noise. You are looking at the image of Dave, hair ruffled and dark circles under his eyes. The bagel in your hand is suddenly remembered. "Uh, here. I made you a bagel with that ridiculous spreadable cheese on it." You hold out the plate and he cautiously takes it, eyeing the bread curiously.

After a moments thought, he starts chowing down on the bagel. You practically sigh in relief. You don't, however, because you're sure Dave would hear you, and you're pretty sure you don't the smug bastard on your ass about it. You start out with a meek, "You okay?" which was replied to by a small blond nod. You just looked at each other for a moment, green eyes to scarlet.

After a few seconds too long, he pulls you into a hug. Wait, what?

You hug back, of course, but you still wonder why. "Thanks, bro," he coughs quietly. "No fuckin' problem," you say, and continue to wallow in the awkward silence. The seconds seemed like hours until Dave chimed in. "Wanna practice on the roof?" You can tell he's having trouble asking you to strife, which was him and Dirk's thing, but you appreciate the gesture. "Sure," you supple a small smile and he throws you a sword, which naturally has to hit you square in the face.

Dave smirks and picks up a sword of his own, opening the window. You watch as he steps onto the rim and pulls himself onto the roof. Cautiously, you walk over to the window and look up. Seeing that it isn't that bad of a climb, you hold up your sword, which a hand takes and disappears. You stand on the window rim and grab the panels of the roof, hauling yourself up. Your knuckles are white by the time you're up, but you guess it's worth it.

Before you make the last pull, Dave's hand reaches down. You accept the offer and grab his wrist, getting half pulled onto the slanted rooftop. You mumble a thanks as he smirks and hands you your sword. You fumble with it for a bit before you find the grip that hurt your hand the least. "You ready?" Dave asked. You nod and get in a defensive position. Dave takes the first strike, a little more forcefully than usual, and you block it, staggering back as your hand hurts because of the sudden pressure.

"Shit- sorry." Dave frowns at himself, "you okay?" you nod and take a swing, this time at his leg. Dave smirks and blocks it, pressing the tip of his sword to the flesh of your neck. You instinctively stumble back, and find yourself stuck between the bricks of the chimney and the blade of Dave's sword. He makes no move to move the sword, though, and this surprises you. Now his face is dangerously close to yours. Shit.

"S-Strider, what're you doing?" That seems to snap him out of whatever angry trance he was in, and he shakes his head, lowering his sword. "Sorry Karkles, my head's just not in the right place right now." He frowns. "It's okay..." you trail off. You're not really sure if you would have been upset if- You cut that thought right off. No need for that shit while Dave's recovering from the loss of his brother. He doesn't think so, apparently, and places a light kiss to your lips, still pinning you to the wall.

You make a startled noise and let your sword slip out of your hand, the blade hitting the roof with a dull thump. His tongue runs against the seam of your lips and you realize how nervous he seems. Dave Strider, nervous? You allow his tongue access to the rest of your mouth, letting a slight smirk appear on your face. You have to admit, you have no experience in this field whatsoever, but it seems that Dave has much more experience than you.

He pulls away abruptly, gently putting the tip of his blade back against your neck. "I hear someone," he whispers, and you give the slightest nod you can manage. "Dave?" you hear John say. Oh fucking hell no. You don't want that fucker killing the moment. You literally watched it die before your eyes in a heaping bloody mass on the roof.

John walks around and gives you a death glare that he knows only you will see before turning to Dave. "You okay? I haven't seen you for days? Have you been-" Dave cuts him off. "Egbert. Shut the fuck up." He pronounces each word carefully, like he was speaking to a child. "I'll be down in a second. Go prepare Casey for my arrival or something." John shrugs it off and climbs down the ladder.

After you're sure Dave's sure he's gone, you look up at the larger boy. He blinks and lands a light peck on your lips before swinging himself down the ladder, taking both swords with him. You roll your eyes and wait a moment before following.

* * *

 

Your mind is whirring and clicking. Kind of like a whole fuckton of gears mashing together. You descend the ladder slowly, smirking at Karkat's face as he watches you. And you just kissed him. You're not even sure when you started liking him. That is the thought you're left with as a squealing little five-year-old runs toward you, short blond hair going back and forth behind her.

"Hey, Case. Dave has to something right now. I'll play with you later, okay?" Casey nods, and you smile at her and walk to your room, closing the door and faceplanting on your bed. You did it on purpose, of course, and you can't really breathe, so you turn your head so you can.

You eventually get tired of laying flat on your face and get up, pulling out your computer. You see a little yellow pesterchum light, so you open the app up.

carcinoGeneticist (CG) opened memo: DAVE GET YOUR ASS ON HERE THIS IS A DIGITAL INTERVENTION at 7:59:02  
CCG: LOOK AT THE FUCKING TITLE  
tentacleTherapist (TT) RIGHT NOW responded to memo  
CTT: Why another memo, Karkat?  
CTT: Don't you get tired of these?  
CCG: HELL NO  
CCG: THESE THINGS ARE THE SHIT  
CCG: AND THIS ONE HAS AN ACTUAL PURPOSE  
grimAuxiliatrix (GA) RIGHT NOW responded to memo  
CGA: Why Does Dave Need An Intervention?  
CCG: BECAUSE HE JUST DOES  
CGA: But That Is Not A Valid Reason  
current carcinoGeneticist (CCG) banned grimAuxiliatrix (GA) from responding to memo  
current tentacleTherapist (CTT) unbanned grimAuxiliatrix (GA) from responding to memo  
CTT: That was uncalled for, Karkat  
CCG: YEAH IT PROBABLY WAS  
turntechGodhead (TG) RIGHT NOW responded to memo  
CTG: what the hell is going on here  
CCG: DID YOU READ THE TITLE?  
CTG: yeah but im confused  
CTG: why exactly do i need an intervention  
CTG: im gonna go now  
CTG: before rose starts reading my mind through this very text  
turntechGodhead (TG) banned himself from responding to memo  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to check out Part 2 of the The Lives of These Dorks series, Cabin in the Woods. Thanks! ^u^ Memos are really hard to format. My chumhandle is iamaTypewriter if you happen to have Pesterchum.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe it's been two whole months since I've updated. I'm almost as bad as Hussie now. On the day HS updates (sometime this month, if you haven't seen), I'll post another chapter as long as I am physically able. Just for you guys.

Every day, guess what you do. Nothing is the correct answer. You can't get Dave to speak with you, and you've never wanted to speak with Karkat unless your life depended on it. He's just really... the most annoying person you've ever met- and will ever meet. Avoiding confrontation is of the essence. You look around your room, which is filled with what others call "miscellaneous garbage," but you think is pretty cool. But who are you kidding, you've never really known anything else.  
You wake up and proceed to have a day like most other days: sitting on your ass playing video games while your best bro and nemesis sword fight on the roof. You can tell. The roof may just collapse by the end of the summer if these shenanigans play out. Damn shenanigans. You open up your fairly ancient Pesterchum window, the small yellowish rectangle only taking up a portion of your computer screen.  
You don't even remember picking up your computer. Huh. Sometimes, you like to imagine it's a weird magical force pulling you to your computer. After the average five second wait, her chumhandle appears on the bottom right of your screen; a familiar reminder that she's opened the window as well. Probably out of boredom, you think.  
ectoBiologist (EB) began pestering arachnidsGrip (AG) at 10:23  
EB: hey vriska  
EB: the blinking yellow light-  
AG: says ive opened this stuuuuuuuupid app  
AG: i knoooooooow, john  
AG: where were we again????????  


~*~*~*~  
You wake up, looking around your room. The walls are black with those indigo swirls you love so much. On the white shelves that don't match the room all that well are various magical artifacts. Your wand, your robe- neatly folded... not really- your collection of wizard action figures. Funny thing is, the one who got you obsessed hates wizards herself. Hmmm...  
You sit on the edge of your twin sized bed, your legs not even close to touching the green carpeted floor, and hop off, your blond hair sticking in a million different directions. You toddle into the kitchen and check the calender, which Daddy checks off so you know what day it is. Tuesday. Can Town/ Wizardry day.  
You open one of the lower cabinets, pulling out a plastic green bowl. In other cabinets, you pull out some cereal and a spoon. After sloppily pouring milk and cereal into the bowl, you proceed to eat it. After you're done with that, you toss the bowl and spoon into the sink, leaving the cereal box on the counter. Dad'll get it.  
John sits on the couch in the TV/living room, staring at his computer screen. The white screen is filled with different shades of blue text. And the house phone's on the counter. High up. Where you can't reach it. As it always is. You try pulling yourself up, jumping while probably looking like a goose.  
You would yell at your brother, but you know he'll ignore you. He has his earbuds in and everything. There are the usual footsteps on the roof, and they don't bother you. After what seemed like hours (but was only 2 minutes), you finally manage to get yourself onto the counter. You pant for a few seconds, picking up the strangely large phone and start scrolling down the presets.  
Once Rose's name pops up, you click it, letting the phone ring a few times.  
"Hello?" Argh, it's Roxy. You wanted Rose, but you must be polite. "Hiya, Roxy. I was just wonderin' if Rose is there, so I can talk to her, if that's okay." You sound as adorable as ever. Score. There's talking in the background, but eventually, Rose answers. "Hiya, Rose." You smile. You haven't heard from Rose in forever. "Hello, Casey. I know it's Tuesday, but I have... stuff today," someone laughs behind Rose; probably Roxy, "so I can't come over. Maybe Way's home. Sorry, maybe tomorrow." You say that's fine, and that you'll check if Way is in fact home. Rose says sorry again, and you tell her to stop apologizing, and that it's fine.  
After you hang up, you spend a bit of time thinking about what Rose could be doing. You eventually give up, scrolling through the presets again.  
Way is probably your legit best friend. Though he's never told you his name (you are starting to think he doesn't have one), he comes over most every other day and helps you construct Can Town (his idea) time and time again. He's never let you down. Not once.  
You find his name (he calls himself Wayward Vagabond) and click on it. He answers immediately. "Hey, Way," you say. Way doesn't really talk (at all), so you have to talk for him, "you think you can come over in maybe an hour? I just got a new supply of cans." Way makes a mhmm sound, and you smile. "Great. I'll get the chalk out, and I'll see you in an hour."  
You hang up, letting your legs dangle over the edge of the counter. You hop off, running into your room to change into decent enough clothes (bright yellow tee-shirt with jeans that are too big for you; all topped with your essential robe). As you walk out of your room and into the living room, the footsteps on the roof suddenly stop. Huh? They normally don't stop until lunchtime.  
You plop yourself down on the couch next to your brother, and he grunts and covers his open tab with something else. You watch John play some game about killing these green things with jester hats until the doorbell rings. "I'll get it!" you run to the door, opening it to reveal Way, in all of his Mayorish glory. "Hey!" you smile, and he smiles back. You head to the basement, checking back to make sure Way follows.  
He's been down here a hundred times, building a hundred different, perfect towns made of cans. You had taken out the chalk and cans the day before, so you were all set. You sit down across from Way, as per the usual, and let him start building the town hall before you build the bank. After the (perfect) town hall is built, you start on the bank. After you finish your sloppy bank, you pull out the chalk, drawing scenes of sky and land on the grey walls.  
As soon as you are satisfied with the drawings, you take your seat across from Way. For the next section of time, you and Way continue with the usual proceedings of the town. Mr. Can Jr. gets fired from his job (for the ninth time this month), you have to hire Mr. Can Jr. so Mr. Can Sr. doesn't throw a fit, etc...  
There are loud thumps, and not from the roof. Someone was coming down the stairs, and loudly at that. After a moment, you see John, looking really really upset, finally reach the bottom of the steps. The basement has never been really sturdy, so vibrations affected everything. Can Town collapsed, leaving Way looking at the wreckage with wide eyes. What is John's problem? You glare at him, and he ignores you, storming into the downstairs guest bathroom, nearly splintering the door.  
Way decides he should probably go, so you see him out, leaving the mess behind you. He can come over maybe tomorrow. You move the cans to a corner, leaving the drawings up on the wall. You head upstairs. Hopefully it would be better up there. It was, but only slightly. Dave and Karkat had come down early, looking a tiny bit less tired that usual. They were talking, and Dave was smirking (as you'd expect). You wonder what happened.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What I didn't quite get into in the last chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did say I'd tell you what happened...  
> Also, happy upd8!!!!!!!! I'll try to edit more often.

You wake up, rubbing your eyes. You check your phone, and it says it's 7:37 in the morning on a Tuesday. You're still incredibly confused over the proceedings of the previous day, so you'll just ignore it until the matter presents itself to you. You're assuming that another strife with Strider is inevitable, as they are most every day. The bastard's probably already on the roof, waiting.  
You quickly slip on pants and a black shirt with the cancer zodiac on, blinking all tiredness away. You groggily open the door to the hallway, unconsciously running your fingers through your hair. As you exit into the silent hallway, you listen for footsteps above you. Nothing. You notice the doors to Mr. Egbert's and Casey's rooms are closed, while Strider's is slightly ajar.  
Better not to look. Better to assume he's already awake and waiting to attempt to scare you on the roof. You open the front door, careful not to make any noise that might wake the rest of the house. You scan the walls of the house, looking for footholds as Strider might. Once you find a spot you're confident won't make you fall, you walk up to it, grabbing a good handhold.  
As you pull yourself up, you hear a hollow thump. You just kicked someone's window. Dammitdammitdammitdammit. You keep climbing, keeping better watch at where you're putting your feet. You still don't want to unnecessarily wake anyone up. Again. You assume whoever belonged to the window you kicked it wide awake now, if they hadn't been. As you finally reach the roof, you stay low, in case Strider actually is up here. After a few moments, you decide you're alone and stand up fully, climbing the dangerously sloped roof. As you reach where the roof flattens, you head toward the chimney, sitting down with your back against it. The only sign of life you see is the silhouettes of two figures in Rose and Roxy's house. The figures are so close, they look like a moving black blob with two heads. One of the two you recognize to be the younger Lalonde, the other... well, you swear you've seen her before. You make a mental note to not tell Strider of this unless it will save your life in some messed up situation that will probably never happen. You sit in that position for who knows how long before you hear footsteps, all of which you ignore. It's just Strider up to something. As the footsteps get closer, you continue to watch the figures. One- Rose- says something to the other as they break apart. After a few moments, a new figure- Roxy- joins them, holding out what looks like a phone to Rose. She answers, talking for a minute or so before handing the communication device back to her elder sister. The elder sister currently being mentioned walks out of the room, and the figures wait a solid minute before the shadows combined once again. You stare at some other houses as you hear the footsteps near, not wanting to get caught watching members of the Lalonde family's shadows morph into other people's shadows. You know it's Strider because he tries to keep his footsteps silent. You obviously heard him a while ago. "I know you're there," you say, still looking out onto the vast array of houses. "Humph," the Strider boy reveals himself, crossing his arms. He's wearing a plain white t-shirt and jeans. Strifing clothes. "What do you want, Strider?" you say, tiredly. He rolls his eyes, apparently catching a glimpse of the Lalonde house's window. "Remind me to remind Rose of that," he blinks at the window, clearly unsurprised. You glance in that direction. "You can remember just fine," you say flatly. Strider had kind of a photographic memory. It scared you at times. To your surprise, Strider carries no swords- or weapons of any kind, really- with him. "Strider, where are the swords?" you ask, narrowing your eyes. Now is no time for shenanigans. "Today," the blond boy starts, "is a lesson on fighting without weapons. Fist fighting, as you may call it." You cross your arms, looking up into crimson orbs. "C'mon, Kitkat. You can't turn down a chance to punch me. Just not the face. You hurt the face, and I may just have to kill you." You growl at the stupid nickname, glaring at Strider. You're sure someone'll get punched off the roof if Strider gets what he wants. "I'd rather not fall to my death, thank your very much." You attempt to scowl. "You really think ten feet will kill you?" You say what the fuck ever, and that you'd rather not injure yourself doing something that will probably prove idiotic in the immediate future. "Heh. Very funny. Now get up so I can kick your ass," Dave says, the corners of his mouth tugging up in a smirk. You can't refuse, though you know your decision will ultimately lead to a major ass-whopping. Not really something to look forward to, on your part. You grunt in defeat and stand up, using your hands to lift yourself from the seated position you were in. It looks as if the aviator-sporting boy is about to help you up, but you are standing by the time he may or may not have made up his mind. You and crimson-eyes circle each other for a moment before the other delivers the first blow- with his right fist. You assume his left arm still hurts since it was cut. As you spar, you need to keep reminding yourself not to aim for Strider's left arm, in case you actually ever have a chance to hit it. Dave's fucking fast. You narrowly avoid being jabbed in the ribs, not being so lucky the next time around. You grunt as Dave's knuckles come into contact with your ribs, though you know the blow wasn't nearly as hard as it could have been. You could be dead a hundred times over by now. You circle to the general area of the chimney-stack, leaning back against it. You know you're not wheezing or whining, which is good, but damn, that hurt. Dave is courteous enough not to punch you while you regain your breath; instead, he stands with his hands crossed over his chest, douchey shades reflecting the blinding sunlight. Thanks, sun, for making your life forty-two times easier. Don't want to end up blind like one of Dave's friends- Terezi, was it? Yeah, you don't want to be blind. No thanks. You guess you have earned the pity of one Dave Douchebag Strider, because he hasn't punched you yet or commented on your agonizingly slow recovery. You kinda thank him for that. You don't know if you can deal with that level of irritating right now. You take a few slow breaths, taking your weight off the brick that had bared it. "Dude, no. You look like you're going to pass out or something. Take your time," Dave looks as if he blinked, but it's hard to tell. You give a shake breath of thanks and lean back on the uncomfortable brick chimney-wall. Thank god. You may have actually passed out if you'd continued, what with this blistering heat. You may just die of heatstroke. Your face must be grey or something, because you see his eyebrows furrow with concern as he sees you. "You don't looks so great. Maybe you should get inside. Perhaps now, before I stuff you down the chimney." You say Jegus, that's a bit much, and that you're soooooooo scared. Your remark is met with a mix between an eyebrow-raising and a glare. You smirk, staying put. Sir Mister Threatening isn't going to budge, so you roll your eyes and sigh, climbing off of the stupidly slanted roof. As your shoes sink into the stupid unstable dirt, you pull them out, successfully filling them with dirt. John's going to give you hell for getting dirt in the house. Jegus Christ; it's like the house hates you. As you step pass the threshold, you hear footsteps behind you. You, obviously high on instinct, dart into the room you should be sleeping in- Casey's room. You usually sleep on the couch, though, because you can't count the number of times Casey has accidentally slept in there instead of in John's room, and you'd rather be brutally slaughtered by a murderous winged black dog than sleep within twenty feet of the Egbert asshole. You take off your shoes slowly, careful not to get a speck of dust on the carpet. You lean against the closed door, back pressing against the wood. There are footsteps from outside the door, as well as under you. Probably someone in the basement doing some weird shit. Nothing unusual, really. You nearly jump out of your skin as there's pounding at the door. It takes a lot of self-control to not start flipping whoever it is off that very moment. But alas, there's a chance that whoever it is is Casey, Dadbert, or a burglar. There's chuckling on the other side, and you glare at the door. "Dude. Open the fucking door," just Dave, deciding to scare you out of your skin. "Dude. Hell no." There's another chuckle, "But seriously, open the door. You were just punched in the ribs. Open up." You are suddenly reminded of the dull throbbing pain in your ribs. You say you'd have been fine if you weren't reminded of it, thank you very much. Dave says heh, you're very welcome. Now that pain is rightfully remembered, he says you need to get your ass out of hiding. You cross your arms and refuse, though you know full well you're being childish. The one behind the door decides to point this out. You say that no, he's the one being childish, though you know for a fact it not to be true. A ridiculous yes-no argument takes up the next ten or so minutes, but eventually the both of you realize that this is in fact stupid. It would only be made more humorous if the previous statement was floating above your heads in obnoxiously large capital letters. But of course that would never happen. In fact, that was stupid reference in itself. You discard your stupidity immediately, turning back to the current ridiculous argument you seem to be engaged in. Eventually, the opposing party won the argument, forcing you to open the door and come out of hiding. You are pouting like a child, while your opposition is smirking like one. If you weren't in the amount of pain you were in, you might just have forgotten about your injuries completely. After a good three minutes of a smirk-pout staredown thing, you roll your eyes and begin to speak, "what the fuck did you want again, Strider?" "Dude. I punched you in the fucking ribs. Just making sure you're not dead or mortally wounded." You say that you're fucking fine, thank him very much. Your instincts insist that you're being observed by a hostile. This hostile happens to be Mr. J. Eggy himself, leaning against a wall across the house, yet still in eyesight, glaring daggers at you. You find his efforts quite amusing, in fact. You smirk and wave, sending John into a fit of childish rage. He glares again and stomps down the stairs, into the basement. A moment later, there's a sound like wood shattering. Wow. Babyish, much? Dave takes no notice of this chain of events, but instead spends the next minutes arguing with you on whether you're dead or not. As you insist that you're fine, there are tiny footsteps thumping up the stairs. It turns out not to be Casey, though, but instead, it's a kid about her age wearing a little suit, who heads towards the door, nodding to you and Dave before he leaves. After the boy child leaves, Casey comes up the stairs, heading towards her room. You move out of the way of the doorway as she passes through it, shutting the door. She can barely reach the handle. After a while, you and the Strider boy forget why you were arguing in the first place. You stand outside Casey's doorway in silence for a while, neither of you quite knowing what to say to the other. Jegus, it's awkward. And, as in every awkward situation, you end up karting. Mario Karting.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Airplanes, hotels, driving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mario Kart is good. So is actually leaving the house, for once in the story (so far).

Mario Kart is played for hours straight. John doesn't emerge from his basement hideaway in that time. You win every Mario Kart race that takes place, as per the usual. Karkat's never going to beat you fairly. Like ever. It is in the middle of a race on a weird-ass jungle track thing that you realize you haven't left the Egbert property since you first stepped onto it. Jesus. How did that happen. You pause the game, which the redhead protests. You tell him he has no say in the matter, and you tell him to not cheat. You take his remote, just for good measure.  
Kitkat pouts, and you head downstairs, depositing the white boxes that the world calls remotes on the bottom step. You head towards the bathroom door, which looks like it's barely hanging on to the door-frame. You naturally assume this is the place John is. It's not like you didn't hear the slam. You're not deaf. You give the door three knocks, waiting for it to open. Only a few seconds passes before it does, revealing a quite pissed-looking Egbert child.  
His face immediately turns to a buck-toothed grin as he sees you. "Dude, what was that about? This poor door doesn't deserve the eternal punishment of an angry Egbert slamming it whenever he's angry." John adjusts his rectangular lenses as he rolls his eyes. "But really. Why're you so pissed all the sudden. You were fine, then you went into a rage-fit and nearly killed Mr. Door," you pat said Mr. Door.  
"Uh," the black-haired boy scratches the back of his head, trying to look innocent. You see through his bullshit immediately. He was going to either prank someone, or just sit there pouting all day. It's hard to tell which. "I was just... breathing?" You laugh, but quickly change it to a breath. Smooth. Real smooth. "So was I. So was every living fucking organism occupying this planet. Anyway, I realized I hadn't left this house, and I have decided to treat you losers to anything that isn't here. Don't get me wrong, your home is cool, but I can't stand being stuck here all summer. 'Kay?"  
John visibly considers this. "Karkat coming?" He spits out Karkitty's name as if it were poison, or a bug or something he wanted the fuck out of his mouth that very instant. "Yeah. As well as maybe Rose and Kanaya. I'm thinking huge fucking roller coasters. Anything like that in this nowhere of a state?" Eggybert looks reluctant, but you don't really care. You just want to get out of this damn house. You'll fly cross-country to Virginia or something to ride big roller coasters. Kings Dominion is the shit. You could barely see during one art of the 305, but this is not Virginia. This is Washington, dammit.  
"Uhh... I haven't been to one, no. There may be, though." But you've planned for this. "John, doesn't your grandma own Betty Crocker or something?" Egbert dives an affirmative nod. "So she has a fuckton of money, right?" Another nod. "So she can lend you some money to get a few plane tickets?" You're smirking now, and you know it. Pack up, assholes. Kings Dominion awaits.

* * *

You're just sitting in your house, listening to drunken sounds of your elder sister, watching How I Met Your Mother with Kanaya, when the home phone rings. You say you'll get it and hit the "begin call" button. "Hello?" Your cousin replies, telling you he has a brilliant idea. You ask what this idea might be. "Kings Dominion, cuz." Oh, you remember that place. You went as a child.  
You have never been on the roller coasters. You were much to small when you went a few years ago. You're still short, but most likely able to ride the "big kid" rides. Dave says he's getting tickets now, and wants to know if you and Kanaya want to come. "Kanaya? Would you be interested in going to an amusement park across the country with my cousin and his "friends." There has been some matchmaking sessions that you'd rather not get into...  
Kanaya says why not; she's never been to Virginia. You tell your cousin her response. Dave seems pleased, and you hear a few clicks- his computer keys- before he says yep, he got it. The plane comes in two hours. "Dave. That means we have to head towards the airport now. " Dave says that may be the case, and that he guesses he'll see you and Kanaya in a half hour or so. You say yeah, bye, and hang up.  
"Kanaya, pack a bag. We're going to Kings Dominion. Who knows how long we'll be there." A mischievous grin spreads across Kanaya's face as she stands up and heads into your room- where she keeps a variety of homemade clothes, for occasions like this- to pack.

* * *

As a white-blond boy comes from upstairs, followed by that fuckass, he explains that you need to get your shit packed, you're going to Kings Dominion. You think you've heard of it before. Virginia, was it? Yeah, that was it. Why would Strider take a bunch of people to a park, loaded with various metal death traps, that happens to be across the country? It makes no sense whatsoever.  
But, you pack anyway, and, soon enough, you were sitting in the back seat of some old Honda. That is apparently John's Dad's. You hope crimson-eyes has a licence. Getting arrested would put a damper on this whole travel idea.  
As it happens, Strider's actually a good driver. He won't tell you why Dirk taught him so much so young, so you don't ask. You sit in silence as the car pulls into the Lalonde driveway. Already standing on the lawn are Rose and Kanaya, Rose with her hands on her hips and Kanaya with her arms crossed over her chest. Yo are once again taken aback by how dauntingly similar Strider looks to his cousin.  
Seriously. Same hair color, same messed up albino eye thing, same devilish smirk. You stop right there, moving over so the two girls could enter the car. Dave makes John give up his seat and, thankfully, Kanaya offers to sit between you and Egbert. Rose sits in the passenger seat, talking quietly with her relative. Kanaya sits quitely, occasionally commenting on what Dave and Rose are saying. You can't even hear what they're saying.  
You and John just sit quietly, waves of aggravation and hatred aimed toward the other. The pale blond boy driving blasts the radio up, and the pale blond next to him gives an approving nod, drumming her fingers to Daft Punk that honestly sounds like white noise when turned up this high. Cousins thrum their fingers against the dashboard to the same beats, looking utterly alike. They weren't even brother and sister, yet they acted like it. Kanaya just watches Rose, leaning forward in her seat. You seem to be the only one who doesn't like this music. The entire genre, really. All garbage.  
It doesn't long to get to the airport. It's not really busy, seeing as it's Tuesday, and you, Dave, John, Rose, and Kanaya make it through security without problems. Kanaya and Rose take as much luggage as you, Strider, and Egbert do. Each. The Egbert family seems to have unlimited money to use at their disposal.  
It seems Strider had decided not to get first class, and instead just take up row of five seats. Smart move, douchebag. You load onto the plane as John calls the window seat. Rose and Kanaya were obviously going to sit on the row of two, while one red eyed person sits between yourself and John. The red eyed person previously mentioned had apparently your and John's dislike of each other. But he would have to be an idiot not to notice.  
Loading is fine enough. Strider immediately puts on headphones, fiddling with controls on some weird-ass DJing app that iPhones apparently have. You put on headphones as well, picking up where you left off on Hitch. You're at the part where they're on the jet-skis and one of the stupid machines dies. Heh. Will Smith had that one coming for him. You stay transfixed until the film ends. Your phone is nice enough to die at the same time. Before it dies, you get a glimpse of the time.  
6pm. 9pm Eastern time. John is leaning on the window, sleeping. Maybe if you're lucky the window will shatter and out he goes. Heh. In your dreams. Kanaya is asleep as well, with her head on Rose's shoulder. It's kind of adorable. You have no idea what the hell Dave's doing. He's leaning back against the seat, but aviators cover his eyes, so you dunno if he sleeps or not.  
Stupid unpredictable human. You rest your head on the headrest, closing your eyes. Maybe you could get some sleep before the plane lands. The blond next to you is tapping his foot in strange repeated patterns, so you naturally assume he's not asleep. But who are you kidding. He never sleeps. You do end up sleeping, though, but you're shaken awake after who knows how long.  
Rose explains to you that the plane is about to land, and you blink tiredness away. You unconsciously run your hand through your mop of hair, out of a habit you developed who know how long ago. Why does it keep being completely devoid of annoying knots and tangles. You mean, seriously? Is it some type of voodoo magic shit that you're unaware exists? You look back at Rose, who looks forward, a small smirk forming.  
You exhale and look at the back of the seat in front of you. John was awake, rubbing his eyes while holding his rectangular vision-enhancers in his free hand. Dave seems not to have moved an inch since you fell asleep. For all you know, he hasn't. A voice comes over the PA, announcing that you'll be landing any moment now. As you land, you try to keep your ears from popping. Hard work, that is. But the landing only lasts a few seconds, then the plane is pulled into Dulles.  
Everyone unloads the plane silently, heading towards baggage claim. You quickly claim your baggages, and the pale blond cousins lead the way toward the exit. As you exit the huge building, Strider stops all of you to give a run-down of what's going to happen tonight. He says he got some hotel somewhere, and there are three beds and a fold-out couch, which Rose and Kanaya will occupy. Kanaya gets red in the face as this declaration is made. Rose just smirks and nods.  
You, Dave, and John will each have your own beds. Thank gog for that. As the designated taxi arrives, you and the rest pile in, filling up the entire minivan with yourselves and your shit. You make it priority to look like the grumpy asshole that people think you are, which isn't really all that hard, since you are the grumpy asshole everyone thinks you are. Nobody speaks until after the cab has pulled into the hotel's parking lot, and one Strider human pays the cabbie, nodding his version of thanks.  
Rose picks up the key to the room and turns down a few hallways, you and the rest following. Still nobody speaks. As soon as the door's opened, everyone has called dibs on a fucking bed. Seriously? You're left with the shitty one between Strider and Mr. Fucktard. But you're really too tired to care at the moment. You drop your crap at the door, climbing into the woodheap the hotel is brave enough to call a bed, closing your eyes and expecting to fall asleep immediately. Except you don't.  
You can't get yourself to sleep for another hour, but, until then, you just lay in the same position with your eyes closed. Everyone else, but Strider, as previously mentioned, he apparently never sleeps, is asleep. Dave's quiet humming is the only thing keeping the room from going dead silent. You're okay with that, because the surprisingly not tone-deaf humming eventually puts you to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I chose VA for a few reasons.  
> 1) The roller coasters are cool  
> 2) The motto  
> 3) I don't really know anything about amusement parks in Washington state


	10. Chapter 10

You wake up to the same sounds you fell asleep to- humming. The hotel room looks like completely different in the light. The walls are a light green that you find horrible, and the ceiling is white. There's a table separating the fold-out bed and the three normal ones, and a separate hall-like area that leads to the mini-kitchen and bathroom. It's a lot bigger than it seems.  
The Strider human is sitting at the tall plastic table, facing the row of three springy mattresses. Headphones cover his ears and his shades cover his eyes, and he's humming some song you think is about pistols of something. It isn't rap, or hip-hop, or any of the "complete bullshit" genres. As he finishes typing something, he leans back in the chair, looking over it. It is then that he notices your awakedness.  
"How'd ya sleep, Kitkat." You're to tired to some up with a sarcastic reply, so you grunt and prop yourself up with your elbow, annoyingly poofy red strands falling over your eyes. As you gather the strength to sit up all the way, you notice that Rose, Kanaya, and John are all sound asleep. You also notice the time. 12:30. 9:30 Pacific. You got eleven hours of sleep. You honestly think that's a new record.  
You have no new messages on your phone, and you have nothing to do. You know you can't go to the Miles of Elaborate Metal Death-Traps until everyone's awake, so you wait. And wait. And wait. Eventually, it becomes 1:30, and Dave moves his headphones to around his neck, looking around for something. All he finds is a dull pencil, and he spins around in the chair to face where his cousin and Kanaya were wrapped around each other in their sleep.  
He pokes the back of Rose's head with the eraser of the pencil, and you hear a grunt as Rose, now awake, rubs her eyes and sits up, hair looking untangled. Then again, Kanaya's sleeping hand was threaded through Rose's hair when they slept... oh gog. Oh your fucking gog.  
You are struck with a moment of realization. Why had your ginger curls not stuck up in every direction? Today, they were their usual fluffy selves, but before...  
The dick.  
Rose had woken Kanaya up, and Strider had turned his chair back in your and John's direction. You realize your hand is in your hair, and your eyes must be wide or shit, because the Strider human is smirking at you, before turning back to his laptop. You just glare at him, but you can't believe you just found out about this. Argh. You lean back against the headboard, picking up your phone again. Might as well text-yell at someone.  
You choose... Nep. She doesn't care how much you yell at her. Pesterchumming Nep it is, then.  
carcinoGeneticist (CG) began pestering arsenicCatnip (AC) at 10:41  
CG: NEPETA  
AC: :33 what is it, Karkitty?  
You proceed to explain your situation- well, most of it- not even rage typing. She tells you she shipped it all along. You had been contacting Nep more often since you got stuck at Egbert's for the summer, and have been explaining the vague details of your situations not too long after they have happened. You left out details that you'd rather not tell anyone. Little moment on the roof, for example. Who knows what Nepeta would do with that information.  
AC: :33 well then  
AC: :33 i would give you advice  
AC: :33 but you s33m to be doing fine all by yourself!  
AC: :33 h33 h33  
CG: NEPETA  
CG: JUST STOP

  
You realize then that you should have contacted... anyone but a crazy shipping cat-girl. As you turn off your rectangular communication device, you realize one Egbert boy has awoken. And on goes the phone. You open this stupid app called Flappy Bird. You don't even know why you have it. Probably Kankri fucking with your phone. You make a reminder to change your password before the summer ends.  
However you got the game, you find it enjoyable slamming a pixel bird into Mario pipes. The game's easy enough. Your high score- without Sollux hacking it- is around twenty. Pretty damn good, especially since you'll never be able to get that again. After a few failed attempts, you have become bored. You're wearing the somewhat clean clothes you wore yesterday, so you suppose- if everyone gets their asses ready- that you'll get at least a few hours near the death traps.  
Not that you want that.  
It seems as if you have a telepath in the group, because someone says "so guys. If you pull your shit together, we can go ride badass roller coasters. Don't just admire my gorgeous face, get ready!" Strider's smirking- probably at his "witty" sentence- and you roll your eyes, unmoving. Laziness is terrible sometimes. Lucky for you, nobody else makes any implications that they'll move either.  
Dave shrugs and puts his headphones on again, like he didn't care. Nobody moved for a half hour, until Egbert got up and pulled something blue out of his suitcase, walking into the bathroom to change. Strider smirks at his computer screen, knowing he had won. You hate it because you know he won, too. After John has gotten his ass out of the bathroom, you see Rose and Kanaya looking through their mountains of clothes.  
No way you're letting them get to the bathroom first, so you quickly scoop up a pair of jeans, a black shirt, and a quite colorful black sweater, speed-walking to the bathroom. It was empty, and you quickly shut the door, locking it as you do so. No shenanigans today. You quickly change into the clean clothes, taking a moment afterwards to look at yourself in the mirror that also served as a wall.  
After deciding you don't give two shits about how you look, you fold up your dirty clothes, tucking them under your arm and opening the bathroom door, however slowly. You are seriously not in the mood for people being assholes. The again, when are you ever. Luckily, no one decides to push their luck. You dump your used clothes next to your bed and sit down on the bed as Rose smiles at Kanaya and enters the bathroom.  
Rose's pale blond counterpart hasn't moved at all, and is typing something on his laptop, stopping every twenty or so taps to read over whatever he typed. A few minutes later, everyone is dressed and ready- you suppose Dave changed before you woke up- to go to the Land of Overcrowdedness and Death-Traps. Rose calls a cab as she, Kanaya, Strider, John, and you leave the room, John locking the door behind him.  
Once the cab arrives, the five of you pile in. It's like a fucking clown car in there. Gamzee would be fucking ecstatic. Once the clown ride from hell is over, you find yourself standing next to a huge birthday cake. John looks horrified by the pink and yellow cake. What an odd fear. Not that you really care, you think it's actually quite hilarious. There's like nobody in line to buy tickets- duh, it's Wednesday- so you're in the park pretty fast.  
The only one who seems to know their way around is one cherry red eyed coolkid, who leads the group to this weird pavilion thing based off of one sport you think isn't a sport- racecar driving. The entire damn area is red and checkered, but you guess that's not why Strider chose this area. In front of you looms a huge red roller coaster, stretching hundreds of feet into the air. 305 feet, Rose corrects you. Well duh, Dave says. That's the fucking name of the coaster. Intimidator 305. Well, you, for one, are most definitely intimidated.  
Before you know what's happening, you are standing in line for the back row of the Death-Trap. Apparently, Dave and John had argued over whether to sit in the front row, so John had stood in the longer line, while you and the other party in the argument stood in line for the back. No way you were even going to consider sitting next to that shit of a human that calls himself Egbert. You reluctantly sit down on the side further from the exit.  
Dave has a short squabble with the manager on whether or not he can wear his shades on the ride. After a good five seconds of argument, it is decided that the aviators will remain grounded while the trap is in motion. Once the shades are placed safely in a bin, the Strider boy who used to wear them took a seat next to you, still keeping on signature poker face, even without the final accessory to support it. He doesn't appear to care, but you're guessing he does.  
Someone talks over the speaker system, counting down until the launch of the coaster. As the cars start to move forward, the blond beside you stiffens. "You never been on this before?" you say. Dave opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He stares forward, gripping the handlebars with white knuckles. "Heh. Well I think I have a greater chance of death than you. And I thought I was freaked out by these metal death-traps." You're gripping the handles probably at least as hard as the one next to you is. Your hands hurt like hell.  
"Death traps indeed," Dave's voice wavers a bit, and he manages a barely noticeable nervous smile, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. You rest your head on the headrest, looking forward. Your knuckles occasionally brushed Dave's, but the handlebars are far to close together, so you blame that.  
As the coaster nears it's peak, you make the mistake of looking over the side of the car. You couldn't make out the people. YOU'RE GONNA DIE. Apparently you look like you're panicking- but you are- because you feel a hand rest upon yours, which was white from strangling the metal handlebars, and you look over to see the human beside ou smirk as the coaster goes rocketing downward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts on the HS upd8? Yeah I'm pretty sure Hussie's evil.  
> I plan on updating this mess on Wednesday (probably).  
> QotD: Anyone ever ridden the Intimidator 305?


	11. Chapter 11

If the first drop from 305 feet air wasn't freaky enough, the 5 G's were enough to make the edges of your vision go black.  
"Strider?"  
"Yeah?"  
"Why the hell can't I fucking see?"  
You don't regain your vision until the next time the coaster descends, and by then, you have to shake your head to clear the last of the black blur. It seems as if Dave is in a similar state, but, as per usual, he does nothing to show it. As the cars speed over hills at 90mph, you feel like you're just going to fly out of your seat. Bye bye motherfucker.  
You are vaguely aware of a warm hand on your own, but you but this thought aside. No need for it now. Or anytime. Ever again. Most likely.  
Your hand grows numb from holding on to those damn handlebars for as long as you have been by the time you see the snap of the picture. By that time, the coaster is nearing its end, but you move your hand just in time. No reason to give Rose anything she could take advantage of later. Strider gets what your doing, and is smirking until the ride ends.  
If anyone ever says the back row is the best for riding a roller coaster, they are fucking lying right to your face. And you know this only now, as you just finished getting whipped around by one if the most badass ride there is. Argh.  
You hold the side of the car for support as you try to stand up, balance deciding not to be the good old chum it usually is. You stand before anyone notices you, and quickly climb out of the small red death-trap-on-wheels. You walk through the gift store without a glance at the probably horrible pictures. Everyone meets up by a red bench toward the exit to the racecar pavilion, and you sit your ass down as fast as humanly possible. Rose and Kanaya sir on the other side, while John and Strider stay standing.  
"What did you guys think about that ride? I thought it was nice," Rose starts. If you didn't know better, you think she may have pulled out a clipboard at any moment. "It was awesome!" John gives the crowd a bright, toothy smile, and you feel yourself wrinkle your nose. That kid was so weird it wasn't even funny. But apparently it was, depending on who you were.  
Dave had reclaimed his aviators, and was wearing them, but you could tell when he rolled his eyes. "It was cool," was all the sunglass-wearing boy said on the matter, but that was all that was needed. He wasn't going to tell everyone how much of a fucking wimp you were when it came to coasters. You silently thank the gods that usually decide you're not worth their previous godly time.  
Within those five seconds, a silent agreement is made: the events of the coaster and/or roof will remain unspoken, and Dave won't tell everyone how much you suck at pretty much everything. It's fair enough, you think.  
A few more hours and you've ridden most every major ride in the park. You had cursed under your breath for the entirely of each one, and had a major headache from that freaking Anaconda. That fucking ride is not as slow as it looks. Anyways, you've been even more of a miserable asshole than usual- to yourself, surprisingly not talking much out loud- and everyone within the park seems to appreciate it.  
You keep your distance from certain red eyed males, but otherwise you stay relatively close to the group. You are forced onto every single ride, and you mutter long strings of curses through most of them, not giving a shit about the little kids around you. They'd have to learn eventually. You're quite surprised at the fact that you aren't immediately yelled at by flabbergasted adults. Those asses wouldn't even know what's coming, but they would want to cover the ears of their precious snowflake.  
You may even scar a few adults for life if they decided to mess with you.  
It's late, so a vote is held, and it is decided that the best option is to go back to the hotel room to get some sleep before roller coasters- as well as the water park- tomorrow. You, of course, voted in favor of "making up your fucking minds already," which allowed a good evasion of the unsaid question.  
That unsaid question related to seeing certain members of the group without their shirts on. You evade the question for this reason and this reason only. After week passes for Kings Dominion were purchased earlier in the day, you had a kind of idea on how long you were to be staying in Virginia. Much too long, in your opinion.  
After everyone is appropriately dressed for sleep, the room is quiet. You are quite tempted to complain about the musky smell the room contains, but decide not to. Better not to have tired people pissed at you. The humming of the night before was not present at the moment, and you find it a lot harder to sleep without it. You usually have some kind of white noise to help you sleep.  
And the silence is deafening.  
After some fidgeting and readjusting, the humming starts again, coming from the bed to your right. This time, you do not immediately recognize the tune, but find yourself drifting off nonetheless. It takes mere minutes until you're sound asleep.  
~*~*~*~  
You wake to nothing other than the wind and the tune of a slightly familiar song, coming through the awful speakers in Strider's laptop. You dare not move, lest the music be stopped. It's even decent music, which is surprising.  
You lay still in a surprisingly comfortable position, with your arm under your head, knees tucked close to your chest. You finally begin to catch some of what the song is saying.  
How does it feel,  
Knowin' you're barely alive...  
Well then. At least now you recognize the song is by Falling in Reverse, instead of some nameless artist. As the music nears it's middle, you hear extra beats and sounds incorporated, along with fingers belonging to a cherry-red eyed boy drumming on the cheap grey plastic table. The scene in itself was oddly comforting. Just... relaxed.  
You find yourself drifting to sleep again, no matter how hard you try to stay awake. Your Ginger curls fall over your eyes as you close them, breathing evening out as you fell into a very realistic dream.  
You had been stabbed twice, but felt nothing. The world around you was being swallowed by yellow and red fingers of the fire, which latched onto anything in its reach. You were falling, to where you don't know, but you suspect it isn't good. Images of all your friends dead from various causes, watching as the world was consumed by death and fire. There were children, too, like Casey and the kid you saw in the Egbert house, looking toward the sky, holding hands as a huge mass of stone hurtled at blinding speed toward the place that they stood. You realize instantly that the world is coming to an end, but why? Why now? Why your friends? Why anyone, really?  
You wake with a start, clutching the used-to-be-white blankets, the back if your neck coated in a thin layer of sweat. Your heart feels like it is going to honest-to-god beat itself out of its happy home in your chest at its own direction. The thudding on your ribs actually hurts, as well.  
You roll to see the clock, willing your blood-pusher to get its shit together. You end up nearly falling off the bed, barely saving your face. Unfortunately, your blood-pusher takes this as a sign to start right up again. Now your chest hurts like hell, and you're an inch away from giving the floor a hug with your face.  
Well, the morning's off to a good start. And to make it even better, someone starts laughing. Starts, then the laugh quickly becomes a near silent chuckling. "Glad you find it funny," you turn to glare at one pale-blond, still with his laptop in front of him. This time, though, he looks at you, rather than the screen.  
The chuckle is soon replaced with a simple smirk, and you just continue to glare, holding onto the mattress for dear life. You, after a stare-down occurs, decide it would be a good idea to move away from the edge of the bed, just in case your hand slips. "Jegus fuck," you mutter to yourself, running a hand through your tangled hair. You wonder if you brought your laptop or your phone charger. You can't find your phone charger anywhere, so you swing your legs over the side of the bed, leaning over to pick up your bag. Hell fucking yes; it's there.  
You pick it out, dropping the rest of your useless crap onto the carpeted floor. You place the device in your lap, tilting the screen back a bit, so you can see what shenanigans the other side of the room is up to. All you see is one typing, two sleeping, all boring. And when you're bored, you go to Pesterchum, obviously. You decide to contact someone you met on the internet, during one of the many arguments that plague it.  
You think she may even be the Terezi that Dave has mentioned. But, of course, you're assuming that blind girls can't type. But, then again, how many people in the world are named Terezi? And what would Dave's Terezi be doing on a debate for a movie? You should really stop calling her "Dave's Terezi," because that's honestly just weird.  
carcinoGeneticist (CG) began pestering gallowsCallibrator (GC) at 7:21  
GC: H3LLO :?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song mentioned a bit ago is called Little Pistols by Mother Mother. The more recent one was Caught Like a Fly by Falling in Reverse. I'm also thinking about making a Rosemary thing in H.A.G.S as well. I already have ideas >:]


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy November and happy upd8! (✿◠‿◠)

carcinoGeneticist (CG) began pestering gallowsCalibrator (GC) at 7:21  
GC: H3LLO :?  
CG: IS THIS TEREZI?  
GC: Y35, WHY :?  
CG: I WAS WONDERING IF YOU KNEW A DAVE STRIDER ASSHOLE  
GC: Y34H. WHY :?  
CG: HE JUST MENTIONED YOU AND I WANTED TO MAKE SURE YOU WERE A REAL HUMAN AND NOT NOT A REAL HUMAN  
GC: OH, COOL. WHO 4R3 YOU :?  
CG: STRIDERS AQUAINTENCE  
GC: K4RK4T :?  
CG: HOW IN THE FUCKING WORLD DID YOU GUESS  
GC: OH, H3 JU5T M3NT1ON3D YOU 4BOUT TWO M1NUT35 4GO  
CG: REALLY?  
GC: Y34H... >:]  
~*~*~*~  
You don't know why you wake up so early, but you do know that you get barely any sleep, and that you look at your computer screen so much that it's probably unhealthy. You were distracting yourself by talking with TZ, but apparently she was being summoned by a mysterious other. Good for her. You had changed into your swimsuit as soon as you had woken up, which is nice because you don't have to fight over the bathroom like everyone else.  
You also get to work on SBaHJ, but you don't really think anyone on the KD trip (excluding Rose, of course) finds it funny. They don't even know what they're missing. Shit's awesome. Anyway, after a few hours of boredom, you wake everyone else up. Kitkat must have changed in the bathroom while you did so, probably to avoid argument over it in the future.  
Smart kid. After everyone's ready to head to the water park, You tell them you and Karkles'll be out in a second. "Who were you talking to? On Pesterchum, I mean. Don't even act like I don't now," you smirk, "the little yellow light was on for like half an hour. You must've been talking with someone." You raise your eyebrows and cross your arms, leaning against the door, blocking Kitkat's only means of escape.  
He runs a hand through a forest of ginger fluff, "uh... nobody. I mean... somebody... just... fuck off, Strider." You smirk, not budging, instead leaning forward a bit. "Just tell me who it was and I'll move. Simple as that." Kittykat gives an exasperated sigh, trying to get to the door. Every time he gets close enough, you lift the front of his grey swimshirt and tickle the soft skin there. His breath hitches in his throat, and he steps back, crossing his arms and scowling, though you suspect it's hard to keep that face on. "Dude, just tell me. God, don't be so sensitive about it."  
He seems to get that there is no point in trying to force his way past you. "Terezi, okay? I was having a chat with your buddy-ol'-pal Terezi." Kitkat's arms remain crossed over his chest as you move away from the doorway. "Good Karkles." He makes a dash for the door and opens it, regaining his calm and walking into the hallway. You follow. John is looking weirdly at Rose and Kanaya, who are having a conversation that ceases to be a conversation as soon as you leave the room. You tell them you'd just forgotten to get your phone, and they accepted it with a shrug.  
The cab ride is spent having a conversation with John about how bad of a movie Con Air actually is. You're at Kings Dominion before you know it. Obviously, you ride a few rides before you get soaked to the bone at the water park. No need to walk around miserably wet for hours. It's about noon when the group starts to head towards the water section of Kings Dominion. Your cousin has her hand confidently gripped to Kanaya's, and it's one of the sweetest things you've ever seen.  
You won't tell Rose that, though. You have your own shit to deal with.  
And weird shit that is.  
It is decided that the wave pool is a logical starting point, so a table is picked out near there, and everyone's bags of random shit are deposited there. Removing day clothes reveal swimsuits, and it is also decided that everyone will spend thirty minutes in the wave pool, then everyone split up and do whatever they want. The swimsuits are: a black one-piece from Kanaya, a pink/purple two-piece from Rose, John's usual blue swimsuit, and lots of grey from Karkat- swim shirt and all.  
The wave pool is uneventful for the most part. The few times Kitkat his his back turned, you get that same soft patch of skin at his waist and he goes back to keeping your shenanigans to a minimum for the next five minutes until you swim back in again. Depending on what happens, this day may end up better than you will expect.  
~*~*~*~  
You have discovered new nerves in your stomach. Why the hell wouldn't these things show earlier. You mean jegus christ. Apparently, the skin over your abdomen will explode with bursts of nerves if anyone other than yourself brushes a mere finger over it. Argh. Well, you guess you're going to have to deal with it for another few minutes. But, this time, the assault comes from beneath.  
You suck in a breath of air as you're pulled underwater, and you are forced to open your eyes to the stinging chlorine water. You have to open your eyes, though, because you don't really want to leave Mr. Strider to his own devices. Hell knows what he'll do then.  
You're currently looking at candy red orbs belonging to the Strider human. He has a smirk on his lips as you pull your swim shirt down every time the water lifts it up a bit higher. Dave allows you to go up for breath, but he pulls you back down every time, sometimes finding that and more stupidly sensitive patches of skin at your waist. Goddammit, Strider. And the worst part is that the assaults on your skin don't feel... well... bad.  
And he can tell.  
Of course the bastard can tell. It seems Strider has a sixth sense for it. Argh x2 Combo it is, then. After a few minutes of this cycle, you find that it's too much work to try to swim away if Dave's only going to catch up again. And your eyes are really starting to sting now. It seems that the odds are never in your favor. The Strider boy seems to be in cahoots with the odds, as well.  
You hold your breath the best you can as one finger brushes over your hip bone, sending a small wave of chills up your spine. You squint, opening your eyes a crack. They hurt enough as is. You rub them for emphasis on the point.  
Dave seems not to care as his lips met yours. Being underwater makes it easier to keep your eyes shut. Being underwater also makes it kind of hard to breathe. Not that you'd be able to breathe anyway. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to check out the new part in The Lives of these Dorks series, How Art Thou Rosemary! I think it's pretty good so far.


	13. Chapter 13

You've been wondering what scowl tasted like for a while now, but, so far, you've only found out that surprise tastes like cherries and chlorine. And you're most certainly not complaining. Wondering about what scowl would taste like, sure. But not complaining.

The day dragged on for forever, everyone finally meeting up at the exit of the park (fully clothed, of course. You'd have a ton of angry security guards on your hands if you weren't) and got in a cab to head back to the pathetic excuse of a hotel that will serve as your home for the next few days.

It is when you arrive that John announces that Jane will be coming back from her mom's in around four days, so you had three left in this roach-infested hellhole. Just enough time to let confusion run its course.

Then again, you're lucky that Kitkat is  so fucking sensitive. Everywhere. You find it mildly amusing, and plan on taking full advantage of the fact that wherever there's skin, there's a bundle of nerves.

Especially on the stomach. Enough of that, RR BAD FUCKING THOUGHTS. That previously mentioned RRBFT has placed itself right back on the tracks, no matter how many times it's been tossed into erupting pyramids of molten rock, and it refuses to just give up and explode already. It's the motherfucking Little Engine that Can.

* * *

The next few days pass in agonizing slowness and, whoop-de-friggin-do, it's Saturday. Also known as day of extremely overcrowded airports and long flights. No one had really unpacked, so packing took no time at all. In a matter of minutes, you were out of that horrid building, packing your shit into a cab.

As you had assumed, the airport is packed with travelers wanting to leave, forcing you, Rose, Kanaya, John, and Kitkat to stay close together to prevent separation. Not complaining there. The complaining comes at the part where you have to shove past people to load the damn plane. People are fucking rude.

The ride is smooth enough, with Karkitty's hand tucked into yours the entire ride. Neither of you seem to mind, as long as your buddy John o'er there can't see. He'd be pissed. Why is beyond you, though. Perhaps the black haired boy to your right has some kind of grudge against the redhead to your left. Heh. Like "some kind of grudge" could put into words the unnatural hatred those two share.

Rose twists some kind of ring on her finger from the seat in front of you. Probably the one Rox had given her for her thirteenth birthday. Yeah, that'd be the one.

"Strider?"

"Hmm?"

"How long until we get there?"

"Once we get there, we're there, obviously."

Snickers from the right, a pinch on your hand from your left. You reply by poking the green eyed grump in that area between ribs and the  hip bone. Hey, look at that, another sensitive-as-fuck area.

You know because the muscles in his stomach immediately tense up, and he pulls out his phone. "Dude, we're almost there." As if a reply, the plane touches ground, shaking everything on it. The Shouting One nearly drops his cellular communication device. You shrug as the plane unloads, and again when Rose asks you how your plane ride was in the car on the way to the Egbert house.

As it so happens, you were driving, so you had a valid reason not to answer. There's surprisingly little traffic. You pull cleanly into the Egbert driveway, letting everyone out before tossing the keys to John and shutting your own door behind you. Rose and Kanaya bid farewell, walking across the street to the Lalonde household.

Upon opening the door, one Crocker female stands in the living room, turning toward the door as it clicks open. John's face visibly brightens as he close to runs toward his elder sister, who wrapped him into her arms and began with various different versions of the sentence "I've missed you."

Jane hasn't changed a bit. Same bouncy black wakes that curled upward about an inch above her chin, same bright light blue eyes, and same buck-toothed smile that much resembled that of her brother. Jane was also a good three inches shorter that John was. And you had a few inches on John. So Jane's pretty small, even though she's a good eleven years your senior.

Funny how that works.

Jane waves a hello to you and the redhead behind. You nod back and walk to throw your bag of shit into your room. It only takes a few seconds, so you decide to take a peek into the guest bedroom that your Bro had slept less than a month before. It still smelled like him, which is weird. Kind of like oranges and a bit of cinnamon left out on a desk for a week or so. Also like freshly washed sheets. Someone did laundry while you were away.

There's light coming from the closet, so you swing open the door. A shiny silver laptop sits there, bright screen flickering. It was plugged in, which explained why the device hadn't died yet. Apparently he had put the settings like that. On the screen, in bright orange letters, was a note.

if this fucking thing has worked and it is indeed my lil bro reading this, it is because im either going to be gone for a while or i ironically died in a car crash, no matter how unlikely the latter may seem. but im just going to assume that im alive for the purposes of this memo. it is set to go off when my phone is out of range for at least four days, and will stay up until you delete it or close it or whatthefuckever. i'll be back as soon as i can, so dont flip your shit when you see im not back home, okay? i left some super ancient beats on one of the folders in your computer (seriously dude make your password harder) so you can listen to that if you tire of that damned radio. sneak-attack jake for me, will ya? asshole deserves it. but if i am really dead, dont miss me. you have better things to do than grieve for the one who assaults you with puppets that are way to cool for you. just come up with a list of ironic facts about how i died or something. just... dont lose yourself. dave, you better fucking take this godly fucking advice right the fuck now and save this colossal rant to your computer, to remind you later not to fuck your life up. see ya later dude

Fucking Bro. Death was the most fucking ironic thing. Chart-topping fucking ironic. You're sitting on the floor with your brother's laptop in front of you, and you are holding up your forehead with your palms. It's just not fair. You quickly email the document to your computer as well as save it to his. You leave the laptop on and open, standing up and closing the closet door.  
Nobody should find it there.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really l8 so I'm sorry a8out that.

As you open the door, you look straight into the face of one Jake English. You didn't even know he was here. "Dave! Gave me a right scare there," his face darkened, and he pulled you into a hug, which you returned, but only slightly. "I'm so so sorry about Dirk," Jake then proceeds to babble out gibberish nonsense that you wouldn't be able to understand even if you tried thirteen times harder.  
All you understand is that Jade is here as well, and that they'd be staying for the weekend before they would go to stay at a hotel. After the only slightly awkward hug ends, you let Jake enter Bro's old room. You walk down the hallway stopping when you reach the basement door, where you could hear the unmistakable sound of someone strumming on a guitar. Jade.  
You knock on the door, waiting a moment before you hear the noise stop and a series of thumps as someone comes up the stairs. Jade opens the door, smiling as soon as she sees you. You think the last time you saw her was maybe a month ago. Max. Seeing that you lived maybe ten minutes away from each other at most.  
"Hi Dave!"  
You nod your greeting.  
"How are you?"  
"Fine enough, I guess."  
"That's good! Uncle E. was looking for you, by the way."  
You turn to look behind you, "alright. Thanks for the notice, Harley," you dip your chin and back up a few steps, allowing Jade to mostly close the door to the basement. You turn around, heading towards the kitchen. Jane is showing John how to properly construct a marshmallow dart (for like the ninth time) and insert it into a Nerf gun. There's no chance you'll escape now. Jake's probably hiding behind the counter. Damn those Egbert-Crocker's and everyone they know.  
Sure enough, as soon as you turn to walk towards the living room, you're hit in the back of the head with the sugary projectile. And, of course, Jake is looking from behind a counter, with his Nerf gun up and aimed. Jane flicks a Gusher (quite popular now in the works of Betty Crocker) to him. Oh yes, bribe everyone with candy. Because that's how life works. You continue walking, keeping your left hand covering your neck. But that does no good. Jake's a crack shot, and he hits the space between your fingers. How was that even possible? Even for a huntsman like Jake, that shot seemed difficult.  
Instead of reacting, you slide the toothpick out and observe the three marshmallows before popping them in your mouth. You don't think they were poisoned or anything. You don't need to turn around to know that Jake's loading for another shot and...  
You catch it.  
You'd left an open space. Quite the tempting target, you'd say. You had a guess of where the dart'd be aimed, so you just caught it behind your head and placed it on the counter, continuing your walk. You've no time for this bullshit right now. There were important matters to attend to. Like ice skating. The random thought pops into your head and decides to lodge itself there. After narrowly dodging another flying stack of marshmallows, you've formulated a plan. And victim number one sits on the living room couch, flying off of the rainbow Mario track.  
You sit next to the driver. "Fuck off, Strider. I'm trying to focus here." You roll your eyes. "Nah." Kitkat scowls, pressing pause ok his remote. "Why?"  
"Because you're the only one that will put up with my bullshit."  
"I put up with your abundance of bullshit in only the most platonic of the ways."  
"But my bullshit is still put up with." You smirk, leaning back. "So I had this idea, right. It's called: 'how about I gather everyone I know to have one bigass ice skating palooza. Who knows when I'll ever get to skate again; Houston's a fucking desert in the summer."  
"That sound like one of the stupidest ideas I've ever heard in my entire life."  
"But you'll help?"  
"You're not giving me a choice, are you?"  
"Nope."  
"Then I guess I'll have to help."  
You smirk, watching the unmoving screen. "Any ice skating rinks around here by any chance?" The redhead beside you thinks for a moment. "Yeah, actually. Tinyass inky dinky rink that practically no one ever goes to is just a few blocks. It's indoor, obviously." You formulate a plan in your head, "Just give me an hour to gather some people, and be ready to frolic around on a slideyass patch of ice." You stand up.  
"Argh, fine. I shouldn't have given you the fucking idea at all," Karkitty scowled, unpausing his game and successfully finishing in fourth place. The rainbow road just did that to people. As long as someone didn't fall off the road, they had a definite first place. You head into the kitchen, towards the huddle of Egbert-Crocker-English's who were no doubt planning their next prank. "Hello, Egderp. Hello, Crocker. Hello, English. I have an idea..." you then proceed to explain your idea in the most detail possible.  
"Sounds like fun!"  
"Think of all the pranking possibilities..."  
"I... I think I'll pass. Just need some more time, you know, to adjust," Jake's looking at the floor, his previous smile completely gone. But you know why he must refuse. You shrug, "that's fine, I guess. One less person to shove into a car, then."  
English nods slowly, leaning against a cabinet, careful not to have a handle stab him. "You guys get yourself ready. Jane, no accidentally killing anyone. John, no pies allowed. Absolutely none of the pies."  
You pull out your phone, opening your handy little Pesterchum app.  
turntechGodhead (TG) began pestering tentacleTherapist (TT) at 13:40  
TG: rose  
TG: rose you answer me right the fuck now  
TT: No.  
TG: i have an idea  
TT: You're not going to let me not listen to your idea, so I guess I have a few moments to listen.  
  
You proceed to tell your cousin how fantastic of an idea you have. Reluctantly, she agrees to go with it. It's ice skating time.

arachnidsGrip (AG) began pestering  ectoBiologist (EB) at 13:40  
AG: Can I come over????????  
AG: Araneas being dreadfully booooooooring  
EB: sure!  
EB: everyones leaving on some ice skating escapade anyways so i think ive got the house to myself  
EB: except for jake  
EB: but i think he will just be in one room the entire time  
EB: mourning, you know  
AG: Will you pick me up from my place????????  
AG: I don't have a car of my own  
  
You tell Dave that you have a summer assignment to finish, so you can't come ice skating. He shrugs it off without question and gathers everyone else. He's gone within five minutes; off driving Roxy's black Subaru to that shitty ice rink downtown. At least Dave leaves you your car. After a bit of staring at a wall, you're ready to pick up Vriska.  
The air was hot and humid and nasty, with tiny bugs of all different sorts trying to buzz their way into your eyes and ears. You enter your car as fast as you can, shutting the door behind you. Your dad usually took a cab to work (wherever that was) so that you could get to and from wherever you wanted to go during the day. The white car is ancient, but you understand why Dad wouldn't just buy a new one. You kind of grew up in that car, in a way. You open the door, careful not to slam it or anything. You'd be grounded for all of paradox time if you so much as dented your father's car.  
Buckling up and gently closing the door, you turn the keys in the ignition, grinning as the Jurassic age motor vehicle's engine begins to hum. Today may just be your lucky day! You back out of the driveway, Vriska's address immediately popping into your mind. Just down Celestial, then a right on Wintergreen, then about a quarter mile until you'll reach Alternia Court. The kids on that road are seriously messed up, but they all know each other, which is good enough, you guess.  
Vriska Serket lived with her mother and older sister, Aranea, whom you have been informed is a total shithead, though you've never met her personally. You were assigned some awful science project about spiders about halfway through the year, and Vriska was assigned as your partner. And god damn did that girl know her spiders. You passed that project (as well as the exam) with flying colors. You'd become good friends with her since.  
You slowly pulled into her driveway, avoiding glances from some hipster shits across the road. Or, at least, they look like hipster shits. Parking the old car, you speed-walk up the winding path that leads to the front door, ignoring the sudden onslaught of doubts that threatens to drown you.  
You knock eight times, as you've learned Vriska is quite fond of the number. You step back as the black door swings open, revealing everyone's favorite spidergirl, equipped with an iphone and bubble gum.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ghostbusters and Johnvris fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Straying from the path of Davekat for a chapter (maybe two) because reasons (and upd8s)

"Where're we going, John? Your house?" You smile and nod, letting Vriska into the passenger seat. You hop in the seat on the left, keying the ignition. "So what do you wanna do once we reach my house?" you ask as you pull out of the driveway, looking toward the Serket female beside you. She seemed occupied flipping off one of the so-called hipster shits. You burst into laughter.

"You really do love your neighbors, don't you?" you simply continue laughing as she shrugs and smirks. "What? They're asses. You'd probably hate his guts too if you met him."

"Him?"

"Well, yeah. Eridan fucking Ampora is the most annoying hipster douchebag ever to strut the Earth."

"Ha. I'll bet he is," you look back at the road, not wanting to crash Dad's car. You'd be dead by morning if you did. It's just a few seconds before you pull into your house's driveway. Dad's at work, and most everyone else went ice skating, including Casey, leaving the house mostly to you. Who knows where Jake might be. As soon as you pass the threshold, you stop. "So what do you wanna do? You must have had some idea when you pestered me."

Vriska thinks for a moment before shrugging, "are there any movies of your that I haven't seen yet?" Then it is your turn to think, "well, let's see. You've seen every Nic Cage movie I have at least twice. Hmm... have you ever seen Ghostbusters?" Vriska was a total movie nerd, like yourself. She'd come over on multiple occasions to binge watch Nic Cage, which your father doesn't mind, as long as you're not awake all night and the volume isn't up too loud.

"Is that the Ivan Rietman one with Bill Murry in it that you've been mentioning since April? No, I have not seen that one." Ah, so you   _have_ mentioned it before. "That would be the one. I even remembered where I put it this time."

You lead her to the movie-watching room (as you call it) and pick the disc on the top of the stack. You'd watched Ghostbusters last night with Casey, so there the CD was. You slide it into the player and sit, letting the dark-chocolate haired girl sit beside you. She had pulled a blue blanket from somewhere or another, and she gladly shared it with you. The film began playing.

The first time Vriska grinned throughout the entire movie was at the line _"is it a figure eight?"_ You smiled as well as she leaned on your shoulder, accepting the surge of warmth that follows. It's the first ever cuddle session you've ever had with anyone. Ever. It's nice.

The old couch you occupy doesn't have the tallest back, so you could just lean your head back and see everyone in the kitchen. Today, this "everyone" consisted of Jake, who was making himself a sandwich. He waves, and you blink. Your cousin seems to get that he cannot make a sound, so he smirks as you turn back to the screen. Vriska's transfixed, staring at the screen.

Your arm found itself around her back, pulling the Serket girl that much closer. A small smile appears on her face for a split second, but quickly disappears as Ray Stantz is stupid enough to say he's not a god. Because when someone asks you if you're a god, you'll remember to say yes.

You'd first met Vriska in the eighth grade, when she'd transferred to your old middle school. She had immediately made friends- as well as enemies- so you hadn't really paid her attention until you'd been paired up in science class. You'd spoken electronically since then, but never much in real life. In the ninth grade, one of her closer friends- Terezi Pyrpoe was her name- left the school to move in with her mother in Texas. Now, thinking about it, Dave had mentioned meeting her quite a few times.

After Terezi had left, people naturally needed someone to blame for their favorite redhead leaving. Since Vriska was closest to her, everyone's first assumption was that she had done some unspeakable thing that turned her against her friend. Vriska had started getting nasty looks in the halls, though she had done nothing. It is then that she had started relying on you more heavily, seeing as you were the only one in the school who hadn't turned against her.

You spoke with her more and more often until April, when it was deemed socially acceptable for her to come to your house after school to watch movies and the like. In the last months, you'd gone through every Nicolas Cage movie in existence, and a bunch of Discovery Channel documentaries on arachnids, which you found interesting. Never before had you had a cuddle session.

You're snapped out of your flashback as Vriska nuzzles your side, closing her eyes. Well, the movie must have ended. You let the credits roll, pressing your lips to the top of the Serket female's head. She smiles against your ribs, those of which are being the cement to your bloodpusher's jackhammer. Vriska looks up at you, cerulean eyes looking larger beneath bifocals.

She places her fingertips on your neck, pressing your foreheads together. You meet her gaze, wondering if you should take your glasses off as well. Your question is answered by the sound of a key turning in the door. You mutter something under your breath, looking up at the front door. Jake appears from one of the hallways, opening the door. Rose and Kanaya stood with Casey holding each of their hands.

They don't seem to notice you and your situation. "Casey was complaining about being cold, so we brought her back. You wouldn't mind watching her, would you, Jake?" Your cousin says he wouldn't mind at all, and escorts Casey to the basement, most likely to build a town out of cans. Jake had been appointed the "People's Ambassador of Can-Town." You blink your gratitude, and Jake just smirks, obviously trying not to laugh.

You turn your head to looks back at the Serket girl in your arms, who has buried her head in your chest and is breathing steadily and softly. Figuring that you should get some sleep yourself, you grab a pillow from the other side of the couch, using that to rest your head on as you pull the blanket no higher than Vriska's chin. She adjusts to it, keeping an ear pressed against your chest, where she could surely hear the pounding.

You press one last kiss to her forehead before drifting to sleep. 

* * *

 You help Casey build the Town Hall of Can-Town, thinking about what you'd seen upstairs. John's found himself someone, that much is certain. "Casey, no. Don't touch cousin Jade's guitar," you scoop your cousin from her collision course with your sister's instrument and place her back next to her little city, where she burst into a fit of giggles. You grin, letting her place the last can of the city.

You figure you'd better not say anything to John, or else he'd probably just deny that he was totally having a cuddlefest with whatever's-her-name. Just like you used to have with Dirk. You drop the banker of Can-Town, clenching your fist. You need to stop relating every single thing to him. Oranges and spice, for example. “Jakey? You okay?” Casey pops another blue bubble of her gum, blinking at you.

“Yes, Casey. Just dropped the banker.”

“Ooh! The doctor can help him!” Casey inspected the banker, checking for dents and whatnot. Finding nothing, she puts the banker back in the bank. 

You clear your mind, keeping full focus on the game at hand. Dwelling on past adventures would do you no good in the future. 

* * *

You've been getting used to the dreams about spiders, and, luckily, the spiders have been getting less vicious every time. The tarantula actually lets you pick it up this time, and it scurries up and down your arm, eventually waking you up. But, of course, the tarantula is a figment of your imagination, and it was actually Vriska shifting in your arms that brought you from your tired stupor.

She has probably just woken as well. You yawn and look down at the Serket girl, who meets your gaze with a tired one of her own. She pulls your forehead to hers once again, smiling slightly. You can't help but grin tiredly yourself.

In ninth grade, Vriska celebrated new years by dying the tips of her hair the same cerulean color as her eyes. It came as a surprise, but the change suited her. She's never admitted it, but you think she's glad you appreciated the change.

She grins, a flash of white, and closes the gap between your mouths.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaaand I switched my Pesterchum to ultramarineUbiquarian because reasons. I'll try to post more often from now on (once or twice a week?) so yeah.  
> Also, I can't write fluff. You could probably tell. Whoopsie doo.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for my lateness on this chapter.

Halfway through skating shenanigans, Casey had begun to complain that her feet were freezing. Rose had volunteered to drive her back to the Egbert’s house, and Kanaya had opted to go with Rose, leaving you with a skater of average skill and one with… not as much skill. It's not your fault you've been taking lessons since you could walk.  
As your time ended, you pulled out your phone.  
turntechGodhead (TG) began pestering tentacleTherapist (TT) at 17:48  
TG: rose  
TG: you took the car  
TT: Oh.  
TT: It seems that I did.  
TT: I will come pick you guys up, then.  
TG: yeah ok thanks  
  
All you can do is wait outside the little indoor rink until Rose can pick you up. "Dave. Where the actual fuck are you going?" Karkitty asks from where he trails behind you. Jane and Roxy said they'd be shopping somewhere, so it's about time to find them.  
There’s a tug on your sleeve, and you turn back to face Karkles. He met your eyes for a moment, but then looked down and slightly to the left, at the greyish cement sidewalk. “I’m being fucking serious,” he mutters, “tell me where the hell we’re going.” You suppose that the redhead won’t let your sleeve go until he gets an answer, so you sigh and decide to tell him. “We’re just looking for Jane and Rox. Maybe all get food afterwards. Chill out.”  
Kitkat mutters incomprehensible things and frees your sleeve from his grasp. You continue to walk, giving Kittycat time to file in beside you. Jane and Roxy are found within some hugeass department store, near the baking supplies. Roxy seems to not be drunk, which is always a good sign. Jane hadn’t found anything worth buying, especially due to the fact that Betty Crocker provided with all the top-notch baking shit she could ask for.  
After Rox and Jane been gathered, you ask everyone where they’d like to get their afternoonly foodstuffs from. Karkat gives none of the shits, Roxy wants anything to do with booze, and Jane suggests this little Mexican place a few streets from the ice rink. Since that’s the only vote that actually counts as a vote, it is decided that it is the Mexican resteraunt that will have to suffer through your, Kitkat, Jane, and Rox’s presence.  
Now that you think about it, Jane’s probably the only one keeping the place in business. Everyone working there smiled and greeted her like she was a friend. Jane, like her usual social self, greeted each and every one back by name. She let the hostess, who Jane called Aradia, pick them a table. Jane asked about Aradia’s collection of skulls, which you find sounds pretty cool, and Aradia reminded Jane to say hello to Jake for Nepeta, who gathered the meat used in the restaurant.  
The table you occupied was circular and seated six, probably because you had told Jane that Rose and Kanaya were coming to pick everyone up, so you guess she had assumed that they were eating with you as well. Sure enough, there’s a ding as the door of the restaurant opens, revealing Rose and Kanaya. Rose waves when she sees your little group and walks over, taking a seat next to Kanaya.  
Closest to the door was Roxy, and to Rox’s left was Jane. To Jane’s left was Rose. To Rose’s left was Kanaya. To Kanaya’s left was Karkitty, and you sat to Karkat’s left. As everyone at the table decided what to order, you poked the inside of Kitkat's left hand with your right. He straightens in his seat, but opens his hand. You lean back in your seat and smirk behind your menu, intertwining your and Karkat's fingers.  
He mutters things under his breath, but the lines on his face seem to soften, the only sign that he's content. A minute or so later, Aradia comes back to take your order. She has extremely dark brown hair, and a small skull pendant encircles her neck. You doubt her skull collection slightly less now.  
Once she reaches you in the ordering process, you just get some plain old steak tacos, because they remind you of home. Of course, you wouldn’t be caught dead saying cheesy unironic shit like that out loud, especially in front of Rose. She’d never let you live that down.  
You only half-listen to everyone blab about the going ons of their lives, staying leaned back in your chair. Karkat doesn’t say much either, he just looks down at the table, fingers twitching occasionally. You do nothing but squeeze Kitkat’s hand whenever it twitched, and no one else at the table- except the one sitting directly to your right- really notices at all.  
The food arrives, and you let the Candy Bar’s hand go to give him both hands to eat his bowl of whateverthefuck. Your pair of tacos is actually fucking delicious- not to mention gone within two minutes- so you have to wait for everyone else to eat after you’d finished. Again, you only half-listen to everyone’s conversations.  
“So what is your opinion on this, Dave?”  
“Hmm?”  
Rose smirked, knowing her presumption that you’d not been listening was correct. Your cousin shrugged, turning and beginning a conversation with Kanaya about some kind of “ancient book,” but that’s all you decide to hear. Your past experiences listening to Rose’s conversations have been all but terrifying. You’d rather just leave whatever it is she's talking about alone.  
You turn your head to your right, casting a questioning glance at the only person at the table who hasn't finished his food. In fact, he's barely touched it. Karkitty just shrugs, poking the chicken lump with his fork. "Will ya need a box for that?"  
He mutters a fuck off and continues prodding at the poor dead bird.  
You sigh, taking his fork and placing it just out of his arm's reach. "Dude, I'm not gonna let you mutilate a perfectly good cluckbeast just because you feel like it. Might want to eat it later."  
Karkat just mutters some more incomprehensible shit. Everyone else is standing up to leave, and there's a pile of takeout boxes towards the back of the restaurant, so you quickly stand up and grab one of the boxes and scrape Kitcat's chicken into it. After the box is sealed, you start following the rest of the group, waiting a few moments to give Karkitty time to stand up and follow.  
He files in beside you, angling his head toward the ground. After your cousin finished leading the way to the car, everyone starts picking seats like the so very mature people they are. Rose dives, while Kanaya gets the shotgun seat. Jane and Roxy get the middle seats, so you climb in behind them, ignoring the non-sober giggles from your older cousin.  
Karkat sits beside you, though there is a perfectly open seat right next to his. You smirk as you buckle your seatbelt, using it as an excuse to move that one inch closer to the one beside you, who grunts and leans against your shoulder. You’re totally up for it, but Rose can see every single thing you do through her handy dandy rearview mirror. But fuck her. You’ll do whatever the fuck you want.  
You wrap your arm around Kitkat’s waist- where Rose can’t see it, you might add. Tall seats are the best. The smaller human beside you said nothing, but relaxed against you, warmth radiating from his oversized sweatshirt. Not burning-to-fucking-death-on-the-sun kind of warmth, but just… pleasant warmth. The kind of warmth that fills your chest with the damn fuzzy feeling that threatens to consume you in its fuzziness.  
Karcat was just about a head shorter than you, making it easier for him to nuzzle your ribcage. The car ride ended far too soon, but you had to get out sometime. You wake goodbye to Kanaya and your cousins, standing behind Jane as she pulled the house key out of her bag, which no doubt contained some sort of cooking item. As the door opens, there’s a confused noise from somewhere, and John’s head pops up from behind the couch. His hair’s all ruffled, and he probably has no idea who you are, because he can’t see you.  
Maybe he would be able to see better if he had his glasses on. You leave this matter alone entirely, not even wanting to know. You had your own shit to deal with, no matter how entirely unshitty that shit was.  
You yawn, running a hand through your hair and heading toward your room. Skating circles around everyone was hard and extremely tiring work, especially when you have to keep helping everyone get up every ten seconds. It was only four, but you suppose you could get some sleep in before midnight.  
You don't even bother changing your clothes; you just lie on your back, putting your shades on the bedside table and closing your eyes.  
Apparently, skating and eating is the most tiring thing ever.  
~*~*~*~  
You wake up drenched in sweat, entire body still feeling like it had been licked by flame, though you're sure it was merely a nightmare.  
You have dreams of the car crash still, even though you were only two years old when the incident actually occurred. Your brain just picked up bits and pieces from the stories you've heard about, and mashed them together into this seamless assumption. You know that your brother had saved you, but you still had nighttime fantasies where you were locked into place, the world around you dissolving into flame.  
You'd thought the unsettlingly vivid dreams had ended years ago, but here it was again, and back by unpopular demand. You sit straight up, trying to slow your breathing enough to fall back asleep, but have no luck.  
You turn toward the blinking digital clock on the wall. Two in the morning. Ten hours of sleep is not bad at all. For you, at least.  
But you don't want to stay awake any longer. It's starting to hurt your eyes. Knowing full well that you wouldn't be able to fall asleep again, you rub your eyes and stand up, instinctively slipping your shades on over your eyes. You feel yourself stepping out of your room and down the hallway, your footsteps light. If Bro had ever heard you awake at this hour, you would've been bombarded by an infinite rain of smuppets. That used to be enough to send you running back to your room.  
You're not even sure which room you end up stopping at, but you lightly knock on the door.  
There's a mumbling noise. It very clearly says: "fuck off."  
At least now you know whose room you've stumbled upon. You open the door a crack, looking in. "Mind if I stay in here for a bit? Can't sleep."  
The cocoon of blankets moved over, mumbling a "get in," before once again falling silent. You don't question Kitkat's superior wisdom as you quietly make your way across the room, the door clicking shut behind you. “But…” you stop moving just as you reach the bed’s edge. Skitkat was talking. “Shades off. Put the damn things away, or get the fuck out.”  
You smirk and do so, setting them in a place that will hopefully be easy to remember. You wouldn’t want a random morning shade-missing panic session. You’ve only seen Bro have one once, so you suppose that’s where you learned it from. Of course, you’d get rained on by puppets whenever Bro saw you. You’d probably be subjected to an even harsher fate if you were caught by the grumpiest grump that ever did grump. You don’t know this for certain, though.  
You slowly slip into the wad of blankets beside the smaller human, smirking as he says nothing in response. You prop yourself up on one elbow, watching the now sleeping redhead beside you.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare for the shortest chapter of your lives.
> 
> 3/25 EDIT:  
> How in the world did this little blurb get more than a thousand views and 50 kudos? hOW?  
> Whenever I finish, I'll post the rest of the chapter here instead of a new chapter. So there's your warning about that.  
> °˖ ✧◝(○ ヮ ○)◜✧˖ °

Your eyes flicker open at around five in the morning. You don't remember why you decided to wake up, but then you remember. The scream. Someone had screamed. You yawn, rubbing your eyes and making sure not to disturb the sleeping boy beside you. You give the redhead's hair one last ruffle before standing and exiting the room, leaving the door open a crack.

You reach the source of the wails soon enough, scooping the trembling five year old into your arms. You let her brother sleep, carrying Casey into the living room. "Nightmare?" The small girl nods, clinging to your shirt. "You wanna tell me about it?"

Casey trembles as she recites to you the contents of her dream. The story was probably the most tragic and terrifying dream of hers you’ve ever heard. You let the girl cry silently until you’re sure she’s fallen asleep. You lift her slowly, setting her on the couch and wrapping her in all the blankets you can find. No use in going back to sleep now, you guess. You quickly retrieve your laptop, not bothering to pick up a set of headphones. You doubt that anyone will wake up soon anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, H.A.G.S. is going on a little hiatus. Let's say it'll be updated between 4/13 and 6/12. I'd be glad to accept any constructive criticism until then :33
> 
> 3/25 EDIT:  
> Hopefully posting the chapter continuation before then.  
> On a mostly unrelated note, I've been working these other little AU's. One of which I've already posted. Just in case any of you care/would be interested in reading.  
> PSA over. ~(˘▾˘~)  
> 4/22 EDIT:  
> DAVEKAT IS CANON BIRCHES  
> SAPH OUT


End file.
